Wood Creek
by Mc Parrot
Summary: Mulder comes down with chickenpox on assignment. Of course there are always complications, in this case cannibals. Mulder torture extreme but with extremely sappy ending.
1. Chapter 1

X Files Fan Fiction

This story was originally written and posted in 2001 on the old Geocities web site and I think I posted it a little later on Mulder Torture

That is what it is Mulder torture

Set season 6 from memory, a week or so after 1st Person Shooter which is mentioned in the story.

Pairing Mulder/Scully

Rating M for violence – cannibalism

Angst/whumping/MT or whatever you want to call it. Hurt/comfort

Usual disclaimer, not mine, just borrowed for a little play

I slashed it into 3 pieces so that it would fit in here. They are not real chapters, just places with a break in the story.

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Snow was falling in large fluffy flakes. Mulder sat mesmerised and watched. The snow seemed to come whizzing at the car before suddenly veering up and over the roof. Looking at falling snow from a moving vehicle was like watching the star field as the Starship Enterprise went into warp drive. Or was it the Millennium Falcon jumping into Hyperspace? Muzzily he worried the question for a moment and decided both. They both did it. His eyelids were heavy. This was hypnotic. He was having real trouble keeping his eyes open. But hey, he nearly giggled, it didn't matter because this time he wasn't driving. For some reason that amused him, it must be the altitude affecting him. Scully the superwoman was in charge again. He pictured her in her cyber gear kicking butt. Shame she couldn't keep that outfit. He snorted a little, and that was a mistake because it made him cough. And coughing hurt. Raw throat and inflamed chest made coughing agony and the effort made his temples throb. Fuck, he would have screamed, but once he'd finally stopped coughing he didn't have the breath. The snow didn't seem so pretty any more. He felt awful.

He took a glance at Scully but she was studiously ignoring him. Knowing how Scully's doctoring instincts were nearly pathological, ignoring his painful cough was a sign of how angry she was at him. Scully was pissed off. Her annoyance wafted through the car like a malevolent fog. Mulder couldn't miss it. She'd been mad all week. Ever since she'd saved his ass from the cyber bitch she had been treating him like a defective two year old. Today was no exception. She was mad because he was here when he should be home in bed. (Ha). She was mad because she thought he didn't trust her to do a job on her own. And, Mulder thought, she was really mad because he'd embarrassed her on the plane. But he hadn't been able to clear his nose and the pressure in his ears was agony. So the hostess had been so attentive and caring. Well wasn't that what she was paid to do? It certainly wasn't Mulder's fault that she had had legs to her armpits and that when she bent down to offer him asprin her boobs had nearly fallen out of her blouse. That wasn't his fault at all.

He tried a sniff. His nose was as stuffed as ever but driving up this mountain had reduced the pain in his ears thank god. He didn't think he could have survived much more of that even with those heavy duty pills Scully had given him. Maybe they were what was making the snow so mesmerising. Hell, watching the snow sure beat the hell out of watching Scully with her mouth set in that tight little line.

God we don't get on like we used to, Mulder thought with a twinge. He did glance at her and yes she was staring straight ahead with her lips tight shut. She's had enough of me. His head throbbed with pain. We can still work together, but we don't 'feel' together like we used to. He was trying so hard to get that back. He needed their togetherness so badly. But god damn it he'd got it wrong again. The case wasn't even an X file, just a messy murder. She had been the one requested for her forensic expertise. He had just decided to tag along. After all wasn't he the wonder profiler. He should have let her go with someone else. Hell he should have let her go alone. But he couldn't.

And the fucking heater in the car didn't work and it was freezing. God, he thought, what am I doing here?

'For christ sake Mulder. Stop doing that!'

'What?'

'All those revolting snorting noises. Blow your nose!'

Oh fuck you Scully! But of course he didn't say it.

Turning to face the door he curled up and wiped his eyes. He did need his handkerchief, but it was no use on his nose, that was too blocked. He wrapped myself around the lump of misery in his chest and wondered how he was ever going to survive these next few days until he could get home again. Alone.

- - - -

Scully was starting to get worried. And she wasn't worried about Mulder. So he had a cold and was milking it for all it was worth. Well too bad. He'd wanted to come. He could live with it. No, she was concerned that if this snow kept up they weren't going to get through to their destination, the town of Chippewa. That meant they wouldn't get to the crime scene until the following day, if then. They were supposed to have flown up from Denver but the snow storm ruined that idea. She sighed. She hated driving in the snow. It had not been a good day so far.

She ran her mind over what she knew about the case. It wasn't much. The murders had occurred the night before, Tuesday and it was now about 4pm Wednesday. Another day and the trail to the killer would be very cold. Skinner had approached her that morning with just the basic facts: two dead, dismemberment and disembowelment. Mutilation. The locals were having trouble working out what part fitted what body let alone finding anything to help solve the crime. Could she help? Hell, Mulder was being such a pain in the butt she'd do anything to get out of the office.

Only now that a) he had come too, and b) it involved a three hour drive over mountains in the snow to get to the crime scene. Oh and c) he had thrown a screaming fit for the benefit of the bimbo air hostess. She really wished she had declined.

And she really wished that Mulder hadn't insisted on coming.

Scully couldn't stand the way that men behaved when they got a sniffle. It turned into such a big deal, death was imminent and they were not going to go quietly. She'd seen dying people with more fortitude than Mulder with a cold. Hell she even remembered her mother remarking on that once. I don't know, she thought. I don't know. That's the trouble. Something is the trouble and I don't even know what.

What? What Mulder, what?

She fiddled with the radio a bit and found a country music station, what a surprise. The sentiment annoyed her and she turned it off. She turned the heater down. She risked a looked at Mulder. He was curled up asleep. He wasn't well, she knew that. He hadn't said a thing about the case, no theories, no questions. It wasn't normal. His breathing was wheezy, the fact that he was asleep at all meant he wasn't well, but she still felt mad. She had been steeling herself to put a little distance between them. She desperately needed some space of her own. They had become so close lately and that was a good thing. It was. But after all these years she was used to being alone and Mulder took up so much of her energy. Especially recently with his mother's death and finding out about Samantha. She loved him sure, but she also felt smothered. He'd placed all of his love and trust and attention on her in the last few weeks and she was having trouble breathing. She had wanted to talk to him about having a week apart. She hadn't had the chance. Now he was sick she wanted to touch him and stroke him and make him better, as always. God! That made her mad!

They were getting higher into the mountains and the snow was starting to settle on the road. It was getting thick enough to worry her. She fought to unfold the map and figure out where the hell they were. It didn't help that Mulder was moaning and twitching in his sleep. Shit, if he was ill they couldn't afford to get stuck out over night. Did this road go any higher or not? It wasn't easy to tell but she was fairly sure it was only about another 15 to 20 miles to go. The trouble was that in not knowing the road she couldn't decide whether or not to risk it.

Mulder was getting more agitated - nightmares, what a surprise. Hell Mulder, she thought, why do you have to do this to me? He was really thrashing around. You know I can't leave you when you need me. Shit this was turning into a biggy. How the hell had he got deeply enough asleep to have a nightmare at this time of the day? He fought and moaned and Scully's heart lurched. He was terrified. Then he began calling her name.

Reaching over to try and shake him awake Scully gasped with shock. He was burning hot! 'Mulder.' She shook him harder. 'Mulder, wake up, you're dreaming!' She suddenly realised she'd stopped the car and had both hands on him, willing him awake.

He jerked upright and stared at her, eyes wide with terror. 'It's alright. It's alright,' she soothed. 'You were dreaming.'

His chest was heaving and it took a moment for the dream to fade and let him come back to his surroundings. She watched fear turn to recognition in his eyes then change to embarrassment and inexplicably to pain.

'Oh.' He took a deep breath and squirmed in the seat. Scully could feel his pulse slowing, and the heat radiating off him. He turned from her to the window and coughed. It obviously hurt. He took a minute to recover. Now Scully admitted she might be concerned. She started trying to unwrap him from his coat.

Mulder took a shaky breath and tried to be nonchalant. 'The snow's worse.'

'That's not the only thing that's worse,' Scully said pointedly. He became aware of what she was doing with the coat and snatched the woollen garment back around himself. They had a brief tussle before Scully sat back and tried to talk him out of it instead. 'Mulder you've got a temperature. You've got to cool down a little.'

'I'm frozen.'

'I'm sure you feel you are, but it's the fever.'

'So fucking reasonable.'

Snorting Scully gave up. She sat back on her own side of the car and gazed at the snow falling on the forest. She didn't care. Why had fate decreed that she ever had to meet this man? She was getting really pissed off with his obstinacy. Let him sit there and sweat. See if she cared if he over heated. She consoled herself with the thought of her gun nestled against her back. If he didn't die soon she might have to kill him.

It was early but the storm meant the light was already going. Finally reaching a decision Scully started the car and turned it around. She couldn't take the chance of going on. About half an hour back she remembered a small township. Hopefully there would be somewhere to stay there. It made her cross, but she had no choice. She'd head back there.

'This car's got fleas,' Mulder said.

Scully ignored him.

- - - - - -

The trip back to the town took longer than Scully had expected. It was snowing hard now, the visibility low and the road starting to get treacherous. She was on edge. Mulder had drifted back to sleep quite quickly, his mouth open to breathe through his blocked nose. Belatedly she felt some sympathy for his earache on the plane. He was so stuffed up he hadn't had a hope of equalising the pressure in his ears as the plane descended. He really would have been in serious pain.

But, Scully admonished herself he knew that before he flew. He'd got enough flights under his belt to know the effects of reduced pressure on the sinus system and he'd still elected to come. So he deserved whatever he got. Right? She sighed. Yeah right. She reached out to touch his cheek. God he was so hot. She really needed to get that coat off him and cool him down a little. She turned the heater almost off, not that that would do much good. What he really needed was to be in bed - for at least a week. The road stretched on.

By the time she did get into the little town, she was exhausted, and with the heater off pretty cold. It was dark. Wood Creek, a small community left over from the logging days didn't seem to have a lot going for it. She crawled along the main street desperately searching for somewhere to stay. There was only one motel and it did not look promising. There was no "Vacancy" sign flashing anywhere. In fact there were no lights on anywhere and only one car looking abandoned in the parking lot. Damn, she thought. They must close up for the winter. There was a however a diner across the road, lit up, with cars parked outside. Her stomach rumbled at the thought of food and she consoled herself that at least they could get something to eat. Which was more than would have happened if they'd got stuck in the snow up in the pass.

She drove right through the town. It took about thirty seconds. There was no where else to stay. Feeling increasingly desperate she turned back for another look at the motel and noticed that there was a light. It came from somewhere around the back of the office building. Someone was home.

So you're not open she thought pulling up in front of the office. A piece of cardboard sloppily spelling out "closed" was taped to the window. Too bad. The beds must still be in the rooms. Scully was prepared to make them up herself if she had to.

With an attempt at an apologetic smile Scully rang the bell on the office door. She stepped back in surprise when the door was flung open before she'd taken her finger off it. The wizened little woman who stood there looked as surprised as Scully when she saw who was at the door. 'I'm sorry to disturb you Ma'am,' Scully started, taking in the woman's surprise. Obviously she had been expecting someone and it wasn't her. 'We're in a bit of trouble. We can't get through to Chippewa in this snow and we really need a bed for the night. I know you're closed but we'd be happy to pay extra if you could open up a couple of rooms for us.'

'Oh I can't do that dear.' She looked around as if to check they weren't going to be over heard. 'We had a murder here last night. I've got to stay closed until the FBI have a look around.'

'You had a murder? Here?'

'Yes dear, real gruesome one. If them FBI don't get here soon and let me clean up I'll never get them stains out of everything.'

'But Mrs..?'

'Murphy.'

'Mrs Murphy. We're FBI agents, but were supposed to be investigating a murder in Chippewa.'

'No. No. They took what was left of the bodies to the morgue there. We aint got nothing like that here of course. FBI was supposed to look at the bodies and then come down here to see the scene.' She peered at Scully. 'You're not FBI. A little slip of a girl like you.'

'Yes ma'am, I am.' Scully showed her ID and the woman crowed with delight.

Scully suppressed a sigh. It was turning into a long day. 'Excuse me a minute would you please.' Turning her back she pulled out her phone and moved around the corner. Snow fell on her hair and already the car was covered in a white layer. The Denver office, when she finally got through to the duty agent confirmed that, yes the crime scene was in Wood Creek. Oh bloody marvellous. She was cold, she was hungry, her partner had a fever and they had just wasted something like an hour and a half on a dangerous snowy road thanks to that missing little piece of information. It was all she could do to be civil. She took a deep breath and turned back to Mrs Murphy. 'Perhaps we'd better take a look at the scene.'

'I'll call the deputy,' Mrs Murphy said. She nodded her head across the road through the falling snow. 'Truck's at the diner.'

'Thank you Mrs Murphy, that would be good.'

Scully went across to the car to wake Mulder and tell him the news while she waited for the deputy to turn up. He woke with a start but seemed a little better for his nap. He wasn't overly pleased about going to work however. Scully left him grumbling and went to get her kit from the trunk. A figure was striding across the road and she did a double take, realising with a shock that the deputy was a woman. She laughed. She had assumed the deputy would be a man. She'd made the same presumptions as Mrs Murphy had about her.

They met half way. 'Deputy Frost.' The woman held out her hand. She was tall and solid with her hair pulled back into a pony tail. Her uniform trousers fitted her snugly and her weapon sat just so on her hip. She exuded authority.

'Special Agent Scully.' Scully smiled as they shook hands. The handshake was firm. 'My partner Special Agent Mulder.' She indicated the hunched figure. He was coughing as the cold air hit his sore air passages. 'But you can ignore him, he's got the flu.'

'Oh.' Deputy Frost looked like she couldn't think of what to say to that but the look she gave Mulder wasn't very kindly. Mulder gritted his teeth and tried to get the cough under control. Now he was getting pissed.

'Do you want to show me the scene?'

'Yes. Of course, come on.' She turned to Mrs Murphy who was hovering near by, 'You go back inside!'

Mrs Murphy glared but hobbled off.

The deputy opened unit 9 with a standard motel key. She stood for a moment in the doorway then looked at Scully. 'This is pretty horrible.'

'It's alright. You've no idea some of the things I've seen.'

The smell came at them in the moment after the deputy opened the door. Blood, faeces, all the smells of violent death. Then the light came on to illuminate a scene from hell.

'Oh God!' Mulder and Scully breathed together. It resembled the aftermath of a high school food fight, but the mess was blood and tissue and bits of unmentionable horror. Scully took a deep breath and moved inside. A layer of newspaper had been laid like a bridge into the centre of the room and they walked on that.

The mess was twenty four hours old and solidified, scummy and brown. It was no less horrifying for that.

'What happened here?' Scully asked as she pulled her gloves on. She looked up to find Deputy Frost watching her. She was taking in her reaction. The deputy shrugged. 'Don't know why, but someone took to these people with a meat cleaver. We got the weapon.'

'Oo.'

'We had to scoop all the stuff up into big polythene bags. Only way we know for sure there was two people is that we had four feet.'

Scully heard Mulder choke.

'Do we know who they were?'

'According to their drivers licences, Chris and Gavin Polech from Miami.' The deputy gave them a brief summation of what was known. 'Tourists we guess. They had ski passes on their jackets. Don't know what they were doing up here though. We turned the heating off when we shut everything up. Just as well I think.' She started taking Scully through the stuff the crime scene detectives had noticed in their prelim investigation, spatter patterns, slashes in the walls and furniture. By mutual consent they were ignoring Mulder. Scully couldn't have said why. The report was comprehensive but concise. Deputy Frost was a good officer.

- - - -

Mulder stood a couple of steps inside the door swaying with fatigue. He desperately wanted to be lying down somewhere but that didn't seem likely to happen in the near future. The scene in the room didn't disturb him unduly, sure it was horrible but he had seen it before. He was feeling so ill he couldn't really take much else on board. He hurt. His muscles hurt, his back hurt. His throat was raw and it hurt to breathe. Tiredly he reached out to the wall for support. There was something dark in the room. Dark as death.

Death had been here but it hadn't left. Fighting a sudden panic he stared around. He could feel it swooping around them. He could see, he was sure he could, a darker shadow between himself and the light. The women were unconcerned. They were discussing blood spatter patterns with the relish of fishwives over the latest piece of gossip. Couldn't they see it?

No. No they couldn't because it was focusing on him. The dark wings were trying to land on him, wrap around him. Frightened he tried to fight it off. He tried to scream but it stopped his breath. Scully, he yelled silently. Help me!

- - - -

Scully's attention snapped away from Deputy Frost, suddenly aware of her partner's distress. He blundered from the room, collided with the door and staggered off the step.

'Mulder?'

The deputy raised her eyebrows. 'Something he ate?'

'He's ill,' she muttered. It wasn't the crime scene. The look on his face had been one of sheer terror.

She raced after him to find him crouching pressed against the car, arms over his head, - taking cover!

Nervously Scully checked her gun. She couldn't see anything that had scared him but it paid to think safe. 'Mulder?' She squatted in front of him. 'What is it?' She took hold of his arms and pulled them down. His eyes were dilated and unfocused in the dim light. It seemed to take some time for him to see her. When he did his relief was palpable. He sagged to the ground as Scully reached out and smoothed the hair off his burning forehead.

'What happened Mulder?'

'Couldn't you feel that Scully?' His voice was a raspy whisper. 'There was something in that room. Death was in that room Scully.' He was shivering desperately.

'I don't dispute that Mulder...'

'There was something there. Something horrible.'

'Mulder, that room was horrible, we all saw something horrible. But all I felt was cold.' She wiped away some snow that was starting to settle on his hair. 'And what you are feeling is very sick.' He sagged against her and she put an arm around him. 'Come on,' she started levering him up. 'We'll see if Mrs Murphy can fix us up with some beds.'

'No!' Scully landed on the ground, completely unprepared for the way he jerked away from her. 'We can't stay here Scully. We can't sleep here!' He was quite demented.

'Mulder!' The snow was soaking through her pants. The Deputy gave her a hand up. 'There is no where else to stay here. You need to be in bed.' She turned to the Deputy prepared to humour him if it was possible. He needed to be kept calm. 'There isn't is there?'

The deputy looked at Scully. 'Weell...'

'What?'

'Well actually, there is. My mam owns a hunting lodge down by the river. I don't think she'll let you have it cheap though.'

'Don't worry.' Scully didn't care a jot what it cost. She just wanted Mulder out of the snow and in bed. 'The FBI can pick up the tab. Will you ask her if we can use it?'

The Deputy grinned. 'Easy.' She started walking back to the motel office, opened the door. 'Mam,' she yelled. 'Is the lodge up to guests?' When Mrs Murphy appeared Deputy Frost grinned as she put an arm around the little woman's shoulders. 'This is my mother,' she said.

They went into the office to make the arrangements. Mulder folded onto the only chair. As Mrs Murphy fussed around finding keys he sagged, squinting up at them from under his fringe. The scene seemed normal but he felt as if another darker one was sliding in and out of view like a bad three colour print. Death was still close. At any stage it could come back. He wrapped his arms tight around his chest. He was still frightened.

Mrs Murphy was giving instructions. 'The beds are made up but you'll have to turn the water and power back on.' Scully signed the necessary papers and Mrs Murphy started to explain about mains switches and water taps. The Deputy cut her off, 'It's okay. I'll go down there with them and sort it out.'

Gathering her partner Scully picked up the keys and led Mulder out to the car with a firm grip on his arm. Her touch was solid and grounding and some of the fear drained away. Deputy Frost said she'd follow along. Scully was just starting the car when the other woman ran over and knocked on the window. 'Agent Scully,' she asked, 'have you eaten?'

- - -

The road to the hunting lodge ran deep into the forest. It was actually a blessing because the snow wasn't settling as thickly between the trees. Even so it was comforting to know they didn't have to worry about getting stuck. Deputy Frost's four wheel drive was coming along behind them.

Mulder leant up against the window idly wondering if he would get a frost bitten cheek. He didn't have the energy to move away. Once the car started moving the black apparition from the motel seemed to have been left behind. He was willing to concede that it might have been a fever dream. He was certainly happy to concede that he now had a fever. He couldn't mistake that hot/cold/shivery feeling for anything else. Concentrating on staying awake until they got there he wasn't really thinking at all, beyond relief that he would be able to lie down soon. He was hot now, hence the cheek on the frozen window. He felt very ill.

In spite of his efforts he found his eyes were closed because he had to open them when the car came to a halt and he heard Scully's sharp intake of breath. Good grief. The building in the head lights wasn't what he'd been expecting. This wasn't a hunting lodge. This was what rich people called a hunting lodge. Skinner was going to do his nut over the expense account for this one.

Scully took a torch and went up the wide steps to the porch that ran right around the building. She fitted the key in the lock and the door opened, so Mulder guessed they must be in the right place. She disappeared for a few moments and then suddenly the whole place was ablaze with light, she'd found the mains switch. It wasn't just every room in the house that was lit either, but the parking area, the grounds, and in front of the house down a slope, just visible through the falling snow, an area of river bank, complete with boat shed and jetty. Wow! Even Mulder's whirling brain was impressed.

Carefully easing himself out of the car he made his way up the steps and followed Scully inside. He found himself in a huge open plan room that was easily the size of his apartment. Right beside him was the kitchen area and away over by the floor to ceiling windows a 'cosy area' of sofas gathered around an enormous fireplace. The windows overlooked the river. It was all a bit much and he didn't really take it in. The cold air seemed to rip across his raw air passages, sucking any lubrication with it. He started to cough. Inside the house was every bit as cold as outside. Shivering he buckled into a chair.

'Mulder,' Scully called. 'Up here.' She was leaning over from a mezzanine area that ran the length of the room. 'Bedrooms.'

It took him an age to climb the stairs. Scully didn't come to help. Mulder took the first room he came to. Huge bed and a door opening into an ensuite complete with bidet and large bath. Fine. Good. Bed. He would have made some smart comment but he was too far gone. He curled onto the bed too miserable to move. For all that it was a swanky room it was fucking freezing. He was so sick. He wondered if he might die.

Something thumped onto the floor and then he heard the sound of the curtains being pulled. Scully had brought up his bag. He felt a weight beside him on the bed. Scully ran her hand over his head but she wasn't trying to sooth. She was only feeling for the pulse in his neck. Mulder was suddenly horribly afraid he was going to cry.

'Come on Mulder,' she said brusquely. 'We've got to get you undressed.' She started undoing his coat. This time he let her. Then she started on the shirt. 'I know it's cold but once you're in bed you'll be alright.'

Her prissy manner was peeing him off. He sat up and shook her off. 'I can manage,' he said thickly.

She stood hovering uncertainly. 'I found some tylenol in my toilet bag. They should help.' She held them out. 'They'll reduce the fever too.'

Mulder took the slide and popped two out.

'I'll get some water.' She went into the bathroom and the taps squeaked. 'Of course,' she called, 'no water.' Scully leaned on the basin trying to control her temper. Somehow the lack of water was the last straw. 'They must drain the building in the winter so the pipes don't freeze.'

Her breath fogged the mirror and she hoped the Deputy would get here soon to turn on the heat. And turn on the water of course. That way she could get Mulder settled and hopefully not see him for the rest of the night. Stifling a growl she went back into the bedroom to see Mulder fighting his way out of his pants. Her eyes were drawn to his chest. What she saw there floored her. Oh No! Her eyes widened. It wasn't fair. 'Mulder.'

He looked up and fell backwards onto the bed distracted from the tricky business of taking his leg out of his trousers. 'What?'

'Look.' She pointed at him. Oh god she didn't believe it. 'No wonder you feel so awful.' The situation suddenly seemed ludicrous and she had to try hard not to laugh, 'You've got chicken pox.'

Scully wasn't a complete bitch. She knew that chickenpox in adults was not to be taken lightly. But oh God, it had to be Mulder. Who else would wait until he was nearly forty to catch a childhood illness? She choked back her laughter and did the best that she could for him but there was very little she could do.

She gave him a quick look over. He had several clusters of spots on his chest and back, probably in his groin too but she wasn't looking there. Contrary to popular belief she didn't actually travel with a full emergency department in her bag and this time she didn't even have a working thermometer. She hadn't replaced it since it was broken (by Mulder of course) about three trips ago. She tucked him shivering into bed and sat beside him thinking. She was pleased at least to have a diagnosis. The flu scenario had been starting to worry her, his temperature had seemed just too high, but it was entirely consistent with chicken pox.

Mulder very quickly dozed off. Scully tried to suppress a moan as she sat there looking at him. With the blankets pulled up he didn't look too bad, he had no spots on his face. That didn't mean that they wouldn't appear later. A diagnosis at least gave her an idea of what to expect. Worse case, he would be extremely ill for about the next five days. His skin would be covered in spots, along with his mucous membranes. He would nearly go mad with the itching. He would have an extremely high fever and the toxins from the virus would attack every organ in his body.

This was Mulder. Scully expected worse case.

Right now it seemed pointless to warn him.

He was contagious. Scully wanted to cry. He couldn't fly. She couldn't send him home. They were stuck here, or somewhere like here for two weeks. She closed her eyes and tried to think of a single reason she stayed partnered to Mulder but right now she couldn't think of one.

She heard the front door open with a feeling of relief. 'Hi there,' yelled Deputy Frost. Scully smiled. She wasn't alone. She kissed Mulder on his forehead and went down to meet her.

The Deputy was carrying a large box that she dumped on the kitchen bench. 'I got us some things. I thought we could make dinner and talk about the case.' She hesitated, 'Hell you're not vegetarian are you?'

Scully smiled delighted at the prospect of company. 'No. Um Deputy Frost..?'

'Oh,' she grinned. 'My name's Shareen. After all we're off duty now aren't we?' She put her hand back and swept her hair out of its band. It was thick and blond and fell in a rich curtain to her shoulder blades.

'Shareen, I'm Dana,' she smiled. 'Ah Shareen, I've got to ask you an awkward question. Have you had chicken pox?'

'Chicken pox. You mean..?' she laughed and nodded towards the bedrooms.

'Yes. I'm afraid so.'

'Oh dear. I thought only kids got chicken pox.'

'Generally yes, but I guess he never caught it as a child. It's usually much worse if you don't catch it until you're an adult.'

'Well I never got it when my daughter had it last summer so I guess I'm safe. God but it's cold in here.' She started pulling things out of the box. 'What do you fancy, chilli or bolognaise?'

Scully thought a moment. Chilli cooked by strangers could be a bit dicey. 'Bolognaise I think, thanks.'

'Great,' Shareen threw Scully an onion. 'You get started, I'll see about getting some heat on around here.' She dived into a utility room off the entry and Scully started searching the enormous kitchen for knives and utensils. It was a beautiful, well set up kitchen and Scully could imaging a chef holding court as the guests sipped drinks and chatted in the lounge. She quickly found what she wanted and started chopping. After a few minutes the water started gurgling in the pipes. Water sputtered from the tap over the sink and when it was running evenly she turned it off. Shareen came back and set to lighting the fire in the lounge.

Scully found a large pan, most of the pans were large. She had water heating for the pasta and the onions and garlic browning nicely by the time Shareen was done.

'The underfloor heating is on but it will take a good hour to get really cosy. The water will be quicker, it's got a fast recovery system. You can have a shower in about fifteen minutes if you want.'

'That's great. Thanks.' Scully stirred her pan, she was enjoying herself. 'Thank you for doing this. These onions are ready. Where's the meat?'

'It is no trouble. Oh hell I nearly forgot. I've got something else you might want right now.' She fossicked in the box. 'Ta da.' She held up a small glass tube, a thermometer.

Scully laughed. 'You are so right. Thank you. I was just cursing not having one of these.' She hesitated.

'Go on. Go see to him.' Shareen reached for the spoon. 'You'll feel better when he's settled. I'll finish this. I like cooking.'

Feeling a weight lift off her Scully went back upstairs. Mulder was out cold. She didn't wake him, just slipped the thermometer gently into his mouth and held it under his tongue. It was not exactly recommended technique but he barely stirred. The reading came in at just over 101. Damn. Hot enough although he actually didn't seem as hot now as he had been back in the car before they got to Wood Creek. That was a worrying thought. Getting undressed and into a cold bed must have helped. Even so, that was way too high.

Scully striped the bedspread off the bed and surveyed him. He really needed the tylenol. It would reduce the fever and ease the aches and pains. She didn't want to wake him but rationalised that he would probably get a better sleep if he took the pills. She fetched some water and woke him up. He wasn't pleased. He swore. It didn't make her feel any more kindly towards him so she didn't treat him very nice. Hauling him upright she made him force the tablets down his throat. After that she made him drink two more glasses of water. He didn't fight the water. He had a raging thirst. And the cold water was soothing on his throat. He could tell she was pissed and he didn't want to deal with it. He figured the sooner she was done the sooner he could get back to sleep.

He should have said sorry or thank you or something. Instead he just slumped out of her arms. 'Your bedside manner stinks,' he grumbled which probably wasn't a very bright thing to say but he was feeling pretty pissed off himself.

She surveyed him for a minute arms folded, her eyes narrowed. 'Goodnight,' she said tightly.

Mulder growled. When the door shut behind her he sagged back into the bed closing his eyes against the pricking tears.

- - - - -

By the time dinner was ready the women were able to dispense with their coats. It still wasn't quite warm enough until they took their wine and moved over by the roaring fire Shareen had coaxed into life.

Dinner was great. They pulled the coffee table over by the fire and sat cross legged on the floor beside it. Shareen proved to be an excellent cook and the wine she pulled out of the store room was superb. She opened the bottle with a flourish. 'This place is well set up. It's a shame it only gets used in the summer. If it were closer to the ski resorts we would get a lot more business.' The pasta was just right and the sauce was rich and fragrant with garlic and tomatoes. Shareen dished it up and then gasped, 'Oh God Dana,' she burst out laughing. 'This looks like something from the crime scene.' She coloured. 'I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I've got a sick sense of humour.'

Scully laughed too. She was already feeling more relaxed than she could remember. She hadn't realised how much she needed some extra company. Company that wasn't Mulder she meant. 'Don't worry. You should have seen what the hospital cafe served up every time my class did dissection at med school. I never could understand why we had to have chopped liver on dissection days.' She poured more wine. Hell, why not.

The evening was wonderful. The alcohol and the fire, the cocooning effect of the snow outside encouraged the women to talk. They had a lot in common. They were both women in law enforcement fighting to be more than equal to the men. Scully brought up the case because she felt she should but neither of them wanted to ruin the mood. They were off duty.

Luckily there wasn't much about the crime to talk about. The couple were last seen alive around 9 pm leaving the diner. They were found around 9 am by Shareen's mother. Time of death unable to be estimated on the scene due to extreme mutilation of the bodies. No one had seen or heard anything unusual.

The car was registered to Gavin Polech, next of kin were being notified. There was nothing Scully could do without seeing the bodies and that depended on the weather in the morning. The killers were probably far away. That was enough of that conversation. It could wait for the morning.

Moving the plates out to the kitchen Shareen opened another bottle of wine. 'I'm so pleased you're here,' she said. 'I couldn't believe it when Mam told me the FBI investigator was a woman.'

Scully grinned. 'I was just as surprised to learn that the deputy was a woman too.'

'Girls can do anything huh?' She handed Scully her glass and slid back down onto the rug.

'Yep.' She held out her glass. 'Here's to girls.'

'Hear, hear,' Shareen said as they clinked.

Scully leaned back Mulder completely forgotten. 'This is so nice.'

They got up to add a log to the fire or top up their glasses, but mainly they leant back against the sofa staring into the fire and talked. It was like a sleep over Scully mused. She had forgotten how nice "girl talk" could be. Hell, she had spent so long with Mulder she had forgotten what normal conversation was like.

They talked about their families. Scully abridged her story fairly dramatically, some things she just didn't feel like sharing. Then Shareen asked about Mulder. After all the wine she'd had Scully's answer was easy. Just partners she said. But her heart gave a funny thump as she said it.

Shareen had a daughter who was presently spending her school holidays with her father in Oregon. Shareen was a pretty proud mom and she missed her daughter but she was trying to do the right thing and let her see her father. He was a logger she explained. When the Wood Creek mill had been closed by environmental pressure, he and most of the other men around left town. Shareen's father had been ill then and so she had decided to stay for a while.

'I didn't regret not going with him for a minute. We never really got on. So by the time Dad finally popped off, which no one really regretted either, I decided not to leave at all.'

'Was he Irish?'

'Who? My dad?'

Scully nodded.

'No,' she giggled. 'He liked to think he was but the closed, closs, closest he got to Irish was out of a bottle.' She up ended the second bottle which was now as empty as the first. 'Damn. Good stuff that. In fact,' she sank back down on the floor. The fire was burning lower now and they were lying on the hearth rug with their toes nearly in the grate. 'In fact, he's the bastard that gave me this silly name. Shar -reen.'

Scully giggled. She couldn't remember why she'd asked if Shareen was Irish in the first place. Might have been her name.

'He thought it sounded Irish. Bastard made it up.'

'How did you know what I was thinking.'

'Just clever I guess. What were you thinking?'

'I don't know.' Scully slumped over as peels of laughter rolled through her. 'Can't remember.' She hiccoughed. 'Can't remember what I was thinking. Listen, listen.' She lent over and hissed a pretend whisper. 'I thought of something. You want to hear a silly name?' Guess...'

'My name's Fox,' a hoarse voice said quietly above their heads. 'Is that silly enough for you?'

Scully gulped. Oh shit!

- - - - -

Mulder woke from a restless sleep feeling completely disorientated. He felt like he'd slept for hours, which actually he had, but it was pitch dark and he could hear voices. He felt hot and uncomfortable and desperate both to pee and have a drink. He also had only the vaguest idea of where he was. It was so bloody dark. Groggily he reached out and as his arm connected with a solid object he realised he was on the wrong side of the bed. The dresser was in the wrong place. Raising his head he squinted at an electric clock that swam in front of his eyes. 8:88 it flashed at him. Well that was useful. By its light he managed to find the light switch and found himself screwing his eyes shut in sudden pain as the light illuminated the room. He did not recognise this place. This was a suite, not a motel room.

He sat up carefully. He felt fluey and sick and he squirmed and scratched at his chest. He was itchy. And that was when he remembered. He snatched his hand away. Chicken Pox. He had fucking chicken pox and they were on a bloody case in Bum Fluff Colorado. He had to try not to scratch.

Cautiously, steadying himself against the wall Mulder made his way into the enormous bathroom. He needed to hang on to a towel rail to stay upright while he did his business. Then he grabbed a glass and helped himself to a rushed glass of icy water. It was cold enough to crack his teeth and it felt wonderful. Lifting his head from the basin he surveyed himself in the full length mirror that covered the wall above the triangular jacuzzi.

Dear god, he was not a pretty sight. Clad only in his boxers very little was hidden. His chest and back were covered in angry red welts, each one centred by a yellow blister. There were a few on his arms and legs and several on his face as well. His hair stood on end, damp with sweat and dark rings ran under his eyes. He looked like a child's caricature drawing of some one with – well chicken pox. Groaning he sat down on the cold edge of the tub and rested his head on his hand. This was bad.

Taking a few minutes to steady himself he staggered back into the bedroom. He found his bag and started rooting for his tooth brush. A foul tasting ooze was running down his throat. He could hear female voices somewhere in the building. Scully wasn't here so she must still be up. Hang on, her bag wasn't in here. Where was she planning on sleeping?

Scully was laughing, a sweet tinkling sound. Curious and too restless to return to bed straight away Mulder found his pyjama pants and carefully pulled them on. Luckily the elastic was quite loose and didn't rub too hard against the spots around his middle. Damn it. Even thinking about the spots made the itch worse. Scully obviously wasn't talking to herself. There was some one else here. They didn't need to see what his chest looked like so he pulled on a towelling robe he found folded on a chair.

Shuffling over to the door he made his way out onto the balcony that over looked the lounge area. Now he remembered this place. Who the hell was Scully laughing with in the middle of the night? He looked down and managed to bite back the shocked hiss that the image below brought to his lips. Scully and the deputy woman were lying on the hearth rug in front of the fire. They were practically in each other's arms, smiling at each other. His heart twisted. He'd never suspected…

Shit. He moved back a bit as he fought to control his breathing. Scully was laughing again. He hadn't heard her laugh like that - ever. A crushing pain grabbed at his chest and he had to concentrate suddenly on staying upright, and more importantly on not making a sound. He started to move away, to head back to bed, his mind reeling. His head was pounding and the light hurt his eyes. Tears were starting to damp his cheeks and irritate the spots there. He was nearly at his door when he heard them talking about silly names and he knew what was coming next. Something snapped. He didn't care how much fun they were having - they weren't going to slag him off. And he wasn't going to let her go lightly. God damn it no. I love you Scully. I'm not going to let you throw it away. It was time to break up the party.

He leaned over the edge again and looked down. 'My name's Fox,' he said. 'Is that silly enough for you?'

Scully's shocked face was quite a picture.

Bugger, bugger, damn. Scully jumped upright then, the mood completely broken. It turned out to be nearly 1am. With muttered exclamations about how late it was and how deep the snow was getting Shareen left quickly. Scully saw her out and then joined Mulder who was still propped on the mezzanine rail. She was drunk and she was very pissed off.

'Mulder.' She surveyed him. 'How long were you eavesdropping?'

'I wasn't eavesdropping.'

'What were you doing then?' She noticed one or two spots appearing on his face. He idly scratched his stomach through his robe.

'I woke up, I heard voices, I came out.'

'Uh huh. And how long have you been here?'

'Long enough.'

'Long enough for what? Don't scratch!'

He snatched his hands back to the balcony rail and twisted awkwardly in the robe. 'It's fucking itchy.'

'I know. I'll try and get some stuff to help tomorrow. Long enough for what? To see me enjoying myself while you're lying there miserable? Poor little Fox can't go to the party so he'll spit on the cake. Is that it.'

'No!' He squirmed some more.

'A cool bath might help. What then?'

'The woman's a dyke Scully. She's after you.'

'Mulder!' Scully was getting really cross. 'I've really enjoyed this evening. You're trying to ruin it. I made a new friend and it was nice.'

'I saw it.'

'You're jealous.'

'I am not.'

'Your trouble Mulder is that you don't know the first thing about women. Do you? Women you see Mulder,' Scully was getting warmed up, how dare he ruin her evening, 'women find it possible to have friendships. Do you know what friendships are Mulder? Do you! How many friends have you got Mulder? Women can have friendships, and share things, and talk and be close to someone and it doesn't mean anything except friendship. It doesn't mean anything. Do you get that!'

He looked pale.

'Have you got that.' Belatedly her fuddled brain realised that they had skipped onto an entirely different topic altogether.

'Yeah Scully, I think I've finally got it.' His voice was completely cold.

Oh God. Scully froze as the realisation of what she'd said hit her. Shit, shit, shit. She was in shock.

Mulder stood there totally stricken, his breath rasping in and out. Eventually he said quietly, 'I think I'll try that bath then.'

Scully could see it was taking him a phenomenal effort to hold himself together. Unsteadily he walked back to his room and the door clicked firmly shut behind him.

She stood rooted to the spot. Oh Jesus! No way had she meant what he had thought she meant but she wasn't taking it back either. He'd had it coming. Serve him right for jumping to conclusions about Shareen. When she reached her own door she stopped and leant her head against the wall suddenly stricken by a thought. She had just ripped his heart out.

- - - -

Mulder's rubbery legs held him up only until he was out of Scully's sight. As soon as he shut the door they gave out completely and he slid gracelessly down the wall. Stuffing his fist in his mouth to muffle the sound he moaned, biting back the scream of pain that wanted to come out. He couldn't make a sound or Scully would come and he couldn't stand that.

He huddled desperately cold and so alone. In the last few months he'd thought he'd found her. In Scully he thought he'd found the love and security and commitment he hadn't even really known he was seeking. He'd never had it before, how could he have known to miss it. He'd been so happy.

Messy sobs suddenly welled through him. How could he not have seen? She hadn't wanted it back. Friendship. Friendship was all she wanted. The gentle New Years Eve kiss had filled him with such warmth. Their quietly blossoming physical relationship had brought a level of joy he'd never known. And these last few months, sleeping in her bed had brought him such peace. All through it he'd thought she shared these feelings. But he'd got it all wrong. He obviously didn't understand women at all.

Heartbroken, ill and alone Mulder huddled on the floor as the black wings closed back in around him.

Scully had left him. He had no protection from the evil demons. Nothing to stop the demons coming in.

- - - -

Scully eventually got to bed. She was still quite drunk and she held on to that. She had a feeling that when she sobered up she would really hate herself. She tumbled into the large bed on her own. It was the first time she'd had a bed to herself in months. She spread herself out and sighed luxuriously. There was no large body taking up more than his share, invading her space and making her bed hot before she'd had a chance to warm it. She did her best to convince herself that she was glad.

Everything was going to custard. After all these years of unrequited lust she had finally got what she wanted and now she wasn't sure if it was what she wanted after all. Mulder was just so… He was so everything! He was so big. He was so untidy. He filled her lovely apartment to over flowing just by being there. He was so brilliant. He was so bloody annoying. He was so clingy. He was so needy. He was so in love with her.

Oh god. He had been so happy.

She tried to tell herself that what had happened tonight would be for the best. She needed space to sort her feelings out, just to find herself again before she was drowned in Mulder. Tonight would help. They could talk it through tomorrow. She could reassure him that she did love him but that she needed a little time to herself

.

And then something happened that made her realise she'd been fooling herself. He started to scream.

Scully shot across the hallway only to find she couldn't open his door. For a panicked moment she thought it was locked and he was under attack. Then the door gave an inch and she realised it was Mulder's body that was stopping it opening. He must have collapsed there after leaving her. Her heart lurched. He was so ill and she had just gone to bed!

'Mulder!' Scully pushed frantically at the door but he showed no sign of waking. Frighteningly she couldn't get him to budge. He was incoherent, flailing around and screaming in terror. Being bashed by a door wasn't waking him up. She had to get to him.

What to do? Trying to calm herself she took a deep breath and looked around. There was another room next door to his. Hardly daring to hope she dashed in there and found, to her relief, a connecting door. Unlocked.

The howls increased in pitch as he saw her but tapered off in confusion as she carefully approached. 'It's all right Mulder. Everything's okay.' She kept her voice low and soothing, moving in so he could see her. Gently she reached out and he shrank back, eyes unfocused but full of fear. 'It's me Mulder. It's me Scully.' That probably wasn't helping. Since his run in with the video game last week he'd been dreaming that she was the cyber bitch. The more lurid details of that dream had completely put him off oral sex. 'You're okay. You're dreaming. Wake up Mulder. It's okay.'

He was terribly hot.

'Come on Mulder. Wake up. Wake up for me now sweetheart. It's all right. It's me Scully. I'm here now.' She watched recognition slowly filter across his eyes and he sank back onto the floor breathing in small sobs. He'd stopped screaming but was at best barely semi conscious. He was very ill.

Pushing away her feelings of guilt Scully fought her way back in to doctor mode. She had to cool him. There was no time to fiddle around with thermometers. Knowing what his temperature was wasn't actually going to help. He was dangerously, brain frying hot. She had to cool him down. She ripped off the robe and was about to do the same with his pants when she changed her mind. He needed serious cooling. That wasn't going to happen on the floor.

Scully was desperate or she'd never have thought of it. Carrying people twice her size wasn't something she usually attempted. For Mulder however she would try. The pants gave her something to hold on to. It was a struggle - he wasn't capable of helping at all. She got him over her shoulder in a clumsy fireman's lift but then found she couldn't stand up. So she'd work with what she had. Scully crawled with him to the bathroom. His hot dead weight hung over her back smelling unpleasantly of sweat and unwashed man. With a jolt of hysteria she realised she could never hoist him into the bath as she had planned so she kept crawling into the shower. Easing him to the tile floor she yanked his pants off and turned the water on.

When the water first hit him he jerked and shouted and then crumpled in the corner, quite limp. Scully adjusted the water until it was barely luke warm. She needed him cold now. She had to be cruel to be kind. Mulder slid bonelessly down the tiles until he was curled on the floor. The shower cubicle was huge but even so Mulder's slumped body took up most of it. She couldn't leave him with his head on the tiles. He'd shut his eyes but his mouth was slack against the floor as the water ran around him. If he stayed like that he'd drown.

Fighting back tears that threatened to engulf her Scully crawled in too. 'Oh god Mulder,' she moaned. 'I'm sorry.' She pulled him up into a sitting position and sat with him under the cool water holding him with her arms around him and his head on her shoulder. In that position she kissed him and stroked him and the falling water masked her tears.

How could she have done this to him? As the cold water fell on her head she reviewed the situation. God she must have been drunk. Jesus she should have realised that anything he said had to be coming through a fever haze. She shouldn't have been expecting him to make sense. She shouldn't have been expecting him to make sense of her.

Scully had no doubt that she was at fault for the condition he was in. She had to be, because if she had not been drunk she would have seen him back to bed, taken his temperature and when she'd seen it was getting up, she would have had him in a cool bath and given a dose of tylenol. She'd have given him plenty to drink, tucked him back into clean sheets and he'd probably have slept until morning.

If she wasn't drunk she'd never have had that stupid conversation. As it was she'd broken his heart and left him delirious and frightened and alone. Jesus, his self worth was so fragile. How could she do that to him?

It took quite a long time but improvement when it came was dramatic. The trouble was, by then Scully was frozen.

'Scully,' said a voice against her neck. 'You're shivering.'

'Mulder!' She hitched back a sob.

'Yeah.' He moaned. He shook himself a little and tried to sit up. 'What are we doing here?'

'You had a very high fever. How are you feeling?'

'Odd,' he said after considering for a moment. 'Wet. I've got a shocking headache.' He wriggled a bit and grimaced. 'My butt hurts.'

'Okay.' Inspite of herself Scully grinned. 'Sitting on cold tile floors will do that to you.' Awkwardly she clambered up and turned the water off. She was stiff and cold. 'We need to get dry and get you back to bed.' She wondered how she was going to manage that. She must be hypothermic; she barely had the strength to stand up herself. She stripped off her wet clothes and wrapped herself in another robe fortuitously hanging on the back of the door. If she didn't see to herself first she realised, they would be in serious trouble. If she collapsed, Mulder wasn't going to be able to help her.

Turning back to Mulder she found him trying to stand and helped him upwards until he was swaying like a tree in the wind. With his arm around her shoulders and hers tight around his waist she headed straight for the bed. If she had stopped to dry him he'd have come crashing down. Once he was on the bed she gave him a flick over with the towel. That would do. She covered him with the sheet. It was warm in the room now.

She did go looking for the thermometer then, coming in with a reading of 100 exactly. Okay, not good in the ordinary sense but certainly no longer in the danger level. Mulder lolled limp and distant, letting her do what she had to do. He took tylenol and he drank water. Then he lay back on the pillows and closed his eyes. Scully watched him. He looked blotchy and horrible. She had no idea how much he remembered from earlier.

She swallowed hard. Her tears threatened to flow again and there was no way she was letting any more of that happen tonight. She turned the light off leaving just the light from the bathroom and came back to the bed staring down at him again. What next? His eyes opened. 'Aren't you coming to bed?' he asked. His eyes slid shut.

'Yes.' She dropped the robe and climbed in. The bed was wrinkled and damp. 'Night Mulder.'

'G'night Scully.'

'Sleep well sweetheart.' She meant it from her heart.

'Mmmm…'

- - - -

Scully was back and the demons were gone.

Mulder woke and lay there savouring a moment of perfect peace. Scully lay sleeping against him. Her breasts, full and warm, rose and fell with her breathing under his hand. He breathed in the scent of her and the clean freshness of her hair. He did have to admit though, even as far gone as he was, there was nothing romantic about her breath. For a moment all of his discomforts ebbed away. Her closeness was overloading his senses, drowning out everything else. Pathetically grateful for her being in his bed he snuggled closer. He was so tired. For now he was safe. He slept.

- - - -- - - -

Which is how it was that Scully woke up to the disquieting realisation that there was a damp, hot, heavy arm across her naked breasts. This was followed by the even more disturbing realisation that the arm belonged to a damp, hot, and naked Mulder. Hadn't she gone to bed on her own?

She froze while her brain tried to make sense of the situation. Mulder was curled around her, even more uncomfortably warm than he usually was. He was sweaty and his breath was hot on her cheek. He was twitching and making little moaning grunts but he was asleep.

With a shudder of distaste Scully freed herself and moved away. Her mouth was disgusting while her stomach could best be described as fragile. Mulder's arm suddenly flopped back across her chest. He was on the wrong side. For some reason it felt completely foreign. She became aware that somewhere in the house a phone was ringing. Then it stopped.

Jesus! Shareen. Who else would be ringing this house? There wouldn't usually be anyone here? Shit, Scully thought. When Shareen didn't get an answer she'd be heading straight up the track to see if everything was okay. It was fully daylight. What the hell was the time?

She slid out of bed, the uncovered patch of skin where Mulder's arm had been suddenly cold and lonely. She paused for a moment watching him sleep, dark eyelashes across his cheek. He was hot, but not the fiery heat of last night's nightmares. He was sprawled on his stomach twitching and moving restlessly, the sheets tightly tangled around his middle. The skin on his back looked as if he had been spattered by something disgusting. And it wasn't just his back she noticed, the backs of his knees were thick with it and there were even spots on the soles of his feet. It looked painful. No wonder he was restless.

Scully's watch had died in the shower and the alarm clock by the bed had never been set once the power was turned on. She had no idea what the time was but considering the time Shareen left and the length of time she had been in the shower with Mulder, she couldn't have been in bed before three. She could easily have overslept by hours. She shot across the hallway to her own room and into the shower.


	2. Chapter 2

Wood Creek 2

By the time Shareen knocked on the door Scully was dressed and towelling her hair. Shareen came in smiling. 'Morning. I tried to phone but you didn't answer. I guessed you were in the shower.'

'I thought that must have been you on the phone. Sorry if I'm late. We had a really rough night here.' Scully ignored Shareen's arched eyebrow. 'What is the time? My watch had an accident.'

'It's nine, but don't worry I'm not long up myself. Fancy some breakfast? There's no rush to go anywhere. I've had a weather report. This snow is clearing and we might be able to get a chopper out about lunch time. Why don't you spend the morning at the crime scene, although I don't know how much good that will do you, and then we'll see if we can get you through to Chippewa in the afternoon to see the bodies? Will that suit you?'

'Thanks. Um. I don't know. I need to check on Mulder. I'm a bit worried that he might not be well enough to leave alone.'

Shareen stared at her. 'Why not? I thought it was like having the flu. What happened last night?'

Scully grimaced. She didn't want to go into it. 'He spiked a really high fever. It was a bit frightening. I got him in the shower and cooled him down and he recovered well. I'm just scared that that might happen again.'

'He's a bit of a pansy isn't he?'

Scully nearly giggled. 'It's not his fault. When adults get chickenpox it usually effects then badly. Children seem to get a much milder form of the disease. That's why it is better to let your children catch it while they're young. It can be life threatening.' She shuddered as she contemplated what Mulder was going through. She might have been cross with him but she would never wish anything like this on him. 'The virus releases virulent toxins into the blood. The effects are severe. It can be worse than influenza and the patient has the itchy rash as well.'

'Shall I ask my mother to come up and sit with him. It's not like she's got a motel to run at the moment is it.'

'Thank you,' Scully said gratefully. Actually, maybe it was just as well he'd come on this case or he'd be alone at home right now.

Shareen grinned. 'It would never do to have our star investigator stuck in a nursemaid's role. We need you to solve this case. Woman power and all that.'

Scully didn't know why but that statement annoyed her a little.

Shareen chattered on. She talked about the case, the weather, put on the coffee and started making toast. She didn't really care much about Mulder suffering upstairs. Her and Mulder's dislike of each other seemed to be mutual. Scully was having trouble getting her brain into gear. She wasn't a big drinker and she couldn't remember the last time she had felt hung over. Obviously Shareen was more used to wine than she was.

Coffee helped.

'I'll have to check on Mulder,' she said. 'I need to change his bed and see if I can get him to eat something.'

'I'll tell you what. You sort him out and I'll go down and get Mam. The four wheel drive is the only thing that's going to make it on the roads today. There's sheets and towels in the closet at the end of the hall. By the time you've finished faffing around I'll be back and we can go and do some work. Okay?'

That was an annoying statement too.

Scully didn't go straight to Mulder but instead went to her own room, thoroughly brushed her teeth and swallowed tylenol and antacids. The antacids helped her stomach a lot. Sighing she lay back on the bed. It was clean and dry and she'd have given anything to climb back in it and sleep. But duty called. She found her phone and reported in to the Denver office. Then she called Skinner. Explaining about the complications of the weather and the bodies being in another place wasn't too bad. She mentioned her opinion that the perpetrator was probably well on his way to another state by now.

Then she let him in on the whammy, Mulder's chickenpox. She told him what she hadn't even told Mulder yet, that he would be infectious for ten days after the appearance of the last spots. It would be at least two weeks before they could come home. Then she tried to slide the posh accommodation casually past him and of course it didn't work. However there was very little he could do about it.

- - - - - - -

Sorting Mulder out took nearly an hour. He was dazed and weak and feeling awful. Scully ran him a cool bath and added baking soda she found in the kitchen because she had some vague memory of it soothing inflamed skin. It may have helped. It was hard to tell. Whilst he was in the bath she got him to eat some apple pie filling she found in a tin and to drink a cup of tea. He was much more interested in ice water. His sore throat couldn't handle much else.

Back in the clean, dry bed Scully gave him a thorough examination. It wasn't pretty. He had the rash absolutely everywhere and some of those places were very painful. In spite of his efforts not to scratch he had rubbed the skin raw on his ankles, elbows and the backs of his ears. His temperature after the bath was 99.7 which was quite good considering. His heart rate and respirations were high. It wasn't all bad news, his air passages were congested and swollen giving him a sore chest and a barking cough but he was coughing well and had no fluid in his lungs. Even so the only things saving his spotty ass from being hauled into a hospital was the fact that it was three hours away and he was drinking well.

- - - - - -

The insects crawled and stung as he writhed with the agony of thousands of spots of fire. A vulture sat over him, waiting, waiting. Measuring him for death, its head turning from side to side to view him better. Mites chewed through his ear canals and eyelids, while worms ate through his eyeballs and out his ass. And the vulture slapped him in the face with a wet facecloth.

Mulder woke gasping with shock. What the fuck... He was being slapped with a wet cloth but it was not a vulture clumsily whacking at his face and chest, but the old hag from the motel. The insects were gone but the sensation remained.

He writhed desperately trying to ease the itch, desperately trying not to scratch. His hands clenched in the sheets by his side. But his body threshed, out of conscious control, turning against the sheets that were so damp they shifted with him, rubbing his legs together, rubbing his chin on his shoulder, his ear on the pillow, anything to stop the torture.

Fuck! What now? She was trying to drown him. He spluttered turning his head aside as she tried to pour water down his throat. 'Drink. You must drink,' she exhorted. 'She said you must drink.'

Yes, he wanted to drink. Struggling up he raised himself enough to take some water. A foul pus was draining down his throat and the water was cleansing and cool. Leaning back onto the pillow with relief his eyes drooped closed when wack, the facecloth hit him again.

His mind struggled to make sense of this malevolent presence. Scully must have left him babysat by this old troll with the bedside manner of Attila the Hun. The windows were open and the cockroaches were coming in. Waves of them followed the path of the vulture's cloth across his face and chest and he struggled to brush them off as they chewed indiscriminately on his body and each other. Metal cockroaches that would suck the life force from him. 'Get off,' he screamed. 'Go away, get off.'

Slap!

Oh god. Oh god.

- - - - - -

Scully spent the morning sifting through the gory mess in the freezing motel room. She learnt absolutely nothing that would advance the case. She found an earing down beside a cabinet but it could have been left by any number of former occupants. The scene of crime team from Chippewa had taken all the Polech's belongings and there was nothing left here to give her any clues.

Outside the sun came out and the village was picture postcard perfect in the snow. Giving up on the room she exchanged her latex gloves for the welcome warmth of her woollen pair and made her way across the road to the diner. She was freezing.

Shareen found her there ten minutes later clutching her coffee mug and breathing in the steam in an attempt to warm herself up. Shareen grabbed a cup for herself and joined her. 'Any joy?'

Scully grimaced. 'No. This is just hopeless. I can't do anything until I see the bodies. I need to see the crime scene reports. I need to talk to the team.' She glared at Shareen. 'What?'

Shareen was smiling. 'I've got good news.' She didn't wait for a reply. 'The weather's cleared and the police helicopter is being wheeled out as we speak. My lady gets to go over the mountain and see the bodies.' She laughed. 'Cinderella gets to go to the ball.'

'Oh thank goodness,' Scully grinned. 'I actually get to do something. Besides I can't stand listening to your mixed metaphors.'

'Yeah well. This time of year we get used to the weather holding things up. They should be here in about twenty minutes. That's all it takes to fly across when the weather's good. Drink up and I'll take you down to the sports field. That's where they're going to land.'

Minutes later the women sat in the vehicle peering up into the empty sky. The mountains were etched in sharp relief against the clear blue. I few wisps of cloud blew around their tops. Scully pressed the end button on her cell phone and sighed. She had just been speaking to Shareen's mother. Mulder wasn't doing too well. She was torn by her desire to be with him and her feeling of duty to this case. Hopefully she wouldn't have to spend too long in Chippewa and she would be back before dark anyway. Mrs Murphy was doing all the right things. Mulder would be alright.

Shareen was drumming the steering wheel with impatience. 'What's taking them so long?' she asked. She checked her watch. 'It's been over half an hour.'

'Why? What's the matter?' Scully asked mildly.

'Oh.' Shareen looked a bit confused. 'Sorry. I've got a domestic I need to sort out. I promised Doreen I'd be there in five minutes. Then I got the call about the chopper. Charlie is a bit prone to pointing the shot gun at her. It hasn't gone off yet but they always seem to need me to get things to calm down.'

'Hell.' Scully was appalled. 'I could have waited. Leave me here and go.'

'I can't do that. You'll freeze.' She peered at the sky again. 'Where are they?'

'What about back up? You can't go into a hostage situation alone.'

'No it's fine. Honestly. They do this on a monthly rota. I'll go out there. They'll scream and shout about something the other has done. I'll say "Put down the gun". Charlie will say, "not till she says sorry". I'll say "Doreen?" Doreen will say "I did not eat all the ham" because it will all be about something stupid like that. They'll both say sorry. The gun will be put down and we'll all have a drink. They just might be getting a bit uptight with me taking so long to come though.'

Scully was looking at her amazed. Shareen shrugged. 'It takes all sorts. Actually it works for them. They get to blow off steam, get some attention… It's not they way I'd like to live but hey…' She drummed her fingers some more. 'What is taking so long?'

As if on cue Shareen's phone rang. Scully could tell instantly it wasn't hers because hers didn't play the William Tell Overture when she got a call.

'Hello.'

--

'Ted. Hi. Where are you? You're supposed to be here.'

--

'No. Shit.'

--

'No sorry Ted. Not you. No it's not your fault.'

--

'Yeah. Okay.' She sighed.

--

'Yeah. We'll just have to try again tomorrow then.'

--

'Okay.' She looked really pissed off.

--

'Right then. Bye.'

She flipped off and turned to face Scully. 'That's it. Your ride's not coming.' She pointed up at the wispy clouds above the peaks. 'It doesn't look like it from here but apparently there are high winds up there and it isn't safe to come over. Sorry.' She thumped the steering wheel in frustration and started the truck. 'I'll just have to take you back.'

'What about going by road?' Scully asked tentatively.

'Oh hell no. There is a lot more snow up there than here. It will be days before you can drive through the pass.'

'Well at least I can back you up on your domestic.'

'No!' Shareen seemed to surprise herself with her vehemence. 'Sorry. No thanks. We have this thing all worked out. It has to play out a certain way. I don't think a stranger being there is a good idea.'

'You're sure?'

'Yes. Thanks. Look I've got an idea. There is no point in you sticking around in town. Why don't you take this truck, I can take the car up to Charlie's no problem, and go back to the lodge. Mam can drive it back. You might as well have the afternoon off. Read a book in front of the fire or something. It's not like there's anything else you can do. I'll phone you if there's any change. You never know. They might be able to get through later in the afternoon.'

- - - -

Scully carefully piloted the heavy vehicle up the narrow track. There had been no more snow and she could easily follow the tracks left by Shareen that morning. It would be a while before she could get the car out of here though. The wind was starting to pick up on the ground now and the trees were dropping their load of snow in great incontinent blobs. One dumped right on the windscreen forcing her to come to a dead halt until the wipers could clear it. She was pleased then of the solid vehicle around her.

'Hello,' she called softly as she came through the front door.

'In here,' called a muffled voice.

Scully followed the sound and found Mrs Murphy fossicking through the huge utility room off the kitchen. 'Here,' she said in triumph holding something up. 'I knew there was one in here somewhere.' She came out into the light and handed Scully an electric fan. 'Shareen phoned to say you were coming back. I think you need one of these upstairs.'

'Oh,' Scully sighed. 'That bad?'

'Yep.' The two women walked up to Mulder's room and stopped just inside the doorway. 'He had a real bad time about half an hour after you left,' Mrs Murphy gave a gleeful report. 'Cockroaches and such eating him up. But I gave the tylenol at 11 like you said and he settled right down after half an hour or so. Bin sort of sleepin like that,' she indicated the twitchy body on the bed, 'about an hour I guess. He's pretty hot again but I didn't want to wake him to take his temperature. I figured sleep was probably more important.'

'Thanks.' Cockroaches huh? Irreverently she wondered if they came with a minder named Bambi. Still she supposed with Mulder's wide range of possible nightmare choices cockroaches were probably logical under the circumstances.

'I've done some washing. It will need to go in the drier soon. You've got plenty of sheets if you need them.'

'Oh thank you.' A huge yawn caught her. 'I'm sorry. I'm just so tired.'

'You didn't get much sleep last night did you. You ought to have a bit of shut eye yourself love, while you've got the chance.'

'Thanks. I might.'

She saw Mrs Murphy off and went back to Mulder. This is what her heart had wanted to do all morning. Sifting through the grizzly mess in the motel room she had been thinking of Mulder. Dammit Mulder. How can I get anything done when you're ill? She set up the fan and turned it on slow. She wanted to cool him, not chill him.

She sat on the side of the dishevelled bed and he instantly started awake. 'Hey,' she smiled, 'how're you doing?' He stared at her disorientated, his eyes swollen and red. She smoothed his damp hair off his forehead and laid his hand on his cheek. He was burning.

'Scully. Thank god.'

'Shhh.'

He squirmed, 'God Scully, he moaned. 'How long?'

'Poor Fox.' She held his hand. 'Three, maybe four more days.'

'No!' He was horrified. 'I can't. Scully I just can't.

'Shhh. It will be alright. I've got some things that should help the itch and if we can keep your temperature down you shouldn't hallucinate.' No more than usual anyway. She poured him some water from the jug on the cabinet and helped him raise himself to drink it. His hair at the back of his neck was soaked with sweat and the skin there was even hotter than on his face.

He gulped at the water and looked up. 'How did you know that?' he croaked.

'Mrs Murphy said you were raving about cockroaches.'

He shuddered. 'She's horrible. Like a vulture perched over me waiting for me to die. She hates men.' He grabbed her hand. 'Don't leave me with her again.' It was that whiney toddler voice. 'Please.'

She plonked the thermometer in his mouth and shut him off. 'It's alright. I'm staying here this afternoon. I can't get to Chippewa and I can't do anything else.' She held up the bag she'd bought at the pharmacy before coming home. 'I've got some anti itch stuff to put in the bath. I'll go and start it running.' She grinned at him. 'Then I've got some good old fashioned calamine lotion. You will survive Mulder, I promise.'

Scully had started the bath and was pouring in the coal tar lotion when Mulder staggered into the bathroom behind her. He had a towel held loosely around his waist and lowered himself carefully to the edge of the bath. He looked truly dreadful. The fever seemed to be burning the flesh off him, his cheekbones and eye sockets stood out in stark relief. The rash was red and splotchy all over him, the older blisters now going yellow and scabby. His sweat soaked hair stood on end. He handed her the thermometer. He looked at it first.

Scully gave in to the impulse to whistle. Mulder shivered. '103.6. Pretty impressive Mulder.' She shook it down and smiled gently. 'Come and get in the bath. It will help a lot.'

Mulder grimaced. 'What is that? It looks like piss.'

'It's Pinetarsel. It's made from coal tar.'

'It smells like it.'

'And I suggest you don't pee in the bath. It won't do your skin any good.'

Carefully Mulder clambered in and sighed. 'Oh,' he said with surprise. 'That is so good.' He submerged, gently shaking his head so that his hair fluffed out. Scully looked at him in the yellow water and suddenly burst out laughing. When Mulder surfaced she was stifling giggles.

'What?' he asked crossly.

She bit her tongue and debated with herself. A burst of laughter forced itself out from between her teeth.

'What?'

'Oh god,' she gasped hysterically.

'What Scully? I don't see anything very funny here.'

She collapsed onto the toilet seat spluttering. 'Oh god Mulder. Do you know? In England don't they eat something called Spotted Dick?'

'Scully!'

'I'm sorry. I just…' She gestured helplessly. 'I've never seen anything like that.'

Mulder moaned. 'I hope you never do again.' His lips twitched. 'If you come anywhere near to trying to find out what it tastes like I just might have to shoot you.'

'Oh poor Mulder.' Scully sobered a little. 'You really have gone off oral sex. I never thought I'd see the day.'

Mulder and pouted and submerged again, holding a hand over his privates to hide them from view. With his other hand he fanned the water so it flowed around his body soothing his sensitive skin.

By the time he surfaced again Scully had herself under control. 'Speaking of oral sex. Have you been having that dream again?'

Mulder shook his head and coughed a little. 'I don't think so. But everything's been pretty muddled. I'm too uncomfortable to come up with sexy dreams right now. There have been plenty of insects though.' He shuddered. Scully moved onto the edge of the bath and gently stirred the water. She couldn't even stroke him at the moment.

The hot tub was enormous. She thought sadly of how nice it would be to be in there with him if he were well. 'Do you want me to turn the bubbles on?'

He shook his head. 'That would be too much I think.'

'Do you want anything to eat?'

He shook his head again and she didn't push it. She remembered what else she had for him. 'Okay. I've got you another present.' She held up a plastic shopping bag, a gleam in her eye.

Mulder looked at her puzzled. He was too tired for games. 'What?'

She grinned at him.

'Come on. Just tell me.'

'Iced tea.' She pulled it out and he made a grab for it. She held it up out of his reach.

His brain ticked over with an audible clunk. He got it then and smiled tiredly at her. 'Scully it must be love.'

He got a gentle kiss and the box of tea as a reward.

Leaving Mulder with his head back against a folded towel Scully went and changed the bed. The mattress was damp so she man handled it and turned it around, putting a large bath towel under the sheet before she made it again. She put another towel on the sheet and left the comforter folded on the chair. He wouldn't be needing that for a few days yet.

She looked around then and realised that other than the bed, the room was extraordinarily tidy. There were no clothes lying around as was usual with Mulder. Curious Scully opened the closet to find his suit hanging up and his case centred on the shelf provided. Moving into her room she found the bed made, the bathroom clean and fresh towels on the rails. Mrs Murphy had been busy. She was quite pleased her bed had looked slept in.

Remembering about the washing she went downstairs and found the machine just chuntering to a finish in the room behind the kitchen. Pulling out an armload of sheets she found all the clothes missing from Mulder's room, his sweat pants, yesterday's shirt and several pairs of boxers. Tangled in amongst it were her own knickers and clothes left on the bathroom floor last night. She winced. That was a bit of a give away.

Back in the bathroom she found Mulder sound asleep, sunk down in the yellow water, his mouth barely above the water line. She had to smile. He was such a bizarre sight. She wondered if she should take a photo, just to embarrass him later.

The water which had been cool to start with was now very cold, other wise she might have left him there longer. As it was she had trouble stirring him enough to get him out of the tub. She patted him dry gently and led him yawning to the bed. Before he lay down she fed him flu strength coldrex tablets and he drank another glass of water. He yawned some more. 'Feel better,' he mumbled. He was asleep again before his head hit the pillow.

Scully painted him with calamine lotion. The smell of it suddenly caused her mind to flash back to the dreadful summer when she was seven when first Bill then Charlie then herself and Missie together caught chickenpox giving her mother something like six weeks with one or more of them sick. God, poor Mom. She had never thought about what it must have been like for her, parenting alone with sick kids for weeks and weeks and no one to give her a break.

Tenderly she painted the pink goo onto Mulder's skin. She put it everywhere, all over his face where the cotton wool stuck in his beard stubble so that he looked like a depraved Father Christmas in training. She painted it down his arms, chest and legs and even cautiously around his genitals. He was sound asleep and never even twitched.

She laid another towel beside him on the bed and using a technique learned from watching nurses perform it many times she bent up his knee and used it for leverage to push him over. He moaned a little at that, smacked his lips and settled on his side. Then she painted his back.

She left him naked on the towel in the middle of the bed. There was no one else here to see him and now he was cool she wanted to try and keep him that way. His temperature was 100.6. She'd brought it down 3 degrees. She was pretty pleased with that.

With Mulder sleeping so soundly it seemed an ideal time to take a nap herself. Idly she wandered across the hall to her own room and lay on the bed. She yawned and decided to get under the covers so she got up and turned the bed down. No, she thought. Maybe it would be nice to doze down by the fire. She wandered downstairs to find that Mrs Murphy had laid the fire and all she had to do was strike a match. She did that and settled on the couch with a pillow, a rug and a National Geographic from the book case. After a few moments she threw the magazine down and stared at the flames. This wasn't working. She went back upstairs, pulled the couch in Mulder's room closer to the bed where she could see him, pulled the discarded comforter over herself because it was cold in the room and promptly went to sleep.

She woke about an hour later, disturbed by her radar that said that Mulder was getting restless. He seemed to be searching for something so playing a hunch she covered him with a sheet and watched amused as he grabbed the edge, pulled it to his chin and snuggled down. He slept again.

By late afternoon his temperature was edging up and he was restless and uncomfortable. He was dozing, in and out of the edges of sleep, falling from nightmare to full alertness passing through a stage of frenzied scratching. The insects were back. His breathing was distressed and his mood when awake was constantly close to tears. He really wasn't well enough to get up for another bath.

During one alert period he be came very concerned trying to work out where he caught the illness. 'I had a sore throat that night in California after we'd been to FPS. I felt really odd then.'

'I know Mulder but you must have been incubating it for longer than that. Probably another whole week. You were really hyped up on adrenaline and testosterone that night. Once that crashed that was when you started to feel sick.'

He tried to leer. 'You didn't complain.'

'I did. You just didn't take any notice.'

'I did. I would have.'

'Never mind Mulder.'

'I didn't take advantage of you. I wouldn't.'

'It's okay Mulder.'

'No. Not all right. I was playing. I thought you wanted to play.'

'We'll talk about it later Mulder.'

'I didn't hurt you?' His eyes were wide and horrified.

'No Mulder.'

'Scully what did I do?'

'Nothing Mulder. It's okay.'

'I thought you wanted to play.'

'I don't really do Xena very well Mulder.'

'I'm sorry. Sorry.'

'Shh. It's okay.' She brought the conversation back to the beginning. 'That was the night you started showing symptoms of this. It manifests as a flu like illness to start with. Remember your sore throat. It's not until the spots come out that you realise what you've got.'

The subject change worked. 'But I don't remember seeing anyone with spots.'

'You didn't have to see them. You could have picked it up from some kid in the supermarket before their mother knew they were infectious. Just like you've probably infected half of everyone on the plane the other day.'

'It's a virus?'

'Yes. It's just a virus and it spreads by droplet infection.'

'So I'm infectious?'

'Yes.'

'You're not…'

'No. I've had it. How come you never caught it as a kid.'

'How the hell would I know.' He twisted in an orgy of squirming and Scully bathed him with cool water with the coal tar in it.

Later he woke her from a doze with one word.

'Snakes!'

He was staring straight ahead, deadly still. 'Snakes Scully.'

Scully jumped up to sooth him. 'It's alright Mulder. There are no snakes here. There are no snakes. You're safe.'

'Snakes!' He was trying to climb through the head board. 'Noo...'

'Shh. It's okay. It's okay.' She held him tight. The heat of him was enormous. 'There are no snakes Mulder. I'll keep you safe.'

He drifted off again.

Next time he said snakes she jumped up quickly. 'No snakes Mulder. No snakes.'

She nearly choked when he turned his head deliberately to face her. 'I know that Scully.' He sighed. 'I was just working out. That was the last time I felt this bad.' His head flopped back on the pillow. 'I feel so sick. All of me. I did then too.'

Relieved he wasn't seeing snakes, she launched into an explanation about toxins. She could see she'd lost him and stopped. 'You are ill now Mulder.' Gently she ran the cloth around his neck and let the water run down his chest. 'I'm so sorry you're sick again.'

'Been sick too much lately.'

'Yes you have. I think once you get over this you need to take a long vacation somewhere in the sun.'

'Will you come with me Scully?'

She smiled. 'Wait till you're better and ask me nicely. I'll decide then.'

'What's that noise?'

'What noise?'

'Can you hear it? There's a dinging sound.' He shook his head and screwed a finger around in his ear. 'Maybe it's just me.'

Scully turned her head on the side and concentrated. 'No you're right. I can hear something. What the hell is it? I'll go and look.'

With her weapon drawn just to be on the safe side Scully started down the stairs. She crept across the floor to the kitchen and shoved her weapon into her pocket with a sigh and a sense of relief that there had been no one to see her.

The noise was coming from the oven timer. A little investigation showed that Mrs Murphy had made her a casserole and left it slowly cooking in the oven. Tucked beside the dish were two potatoes perfectly cooked in their jackets. Blinking back sudden tears Scully felt overwhelmed by the kindness behind the gesture. She groped around for an oven cloth and removed her dinner. Except for Shareen last night no one had made a home cooked meal for her in a very long time.

Scully had just finished her dinner when her phone rang.

'Scully.'

'Hi. It's Shareen here. Just thought I'd better check in and see if you found your tea.'

Scully smiled. 'I did. Thank your mother for me will you. It was lovely of her to do that.'

Scully could tell that Shareen was smiling too. 'I will. I'm sure she was more than happy to do it.'

'How did you do with your domestic?'

'Oh. Same old same old. All over now. No real problems. How are things at your end?'

'Not going too well.' Scully sank into a chair. 'I'm wondering whether I shouldn't be trying to get him back to Denver. He could really do with being on an IV and a bit of sedation probably wouldn't hurt either. He's exhausted but he can't get any rest.'

'Will he be alright through the night do you think?'

'I suppose so. He's not dangerously ill, not as long as I keep on top of his temperature. I'm just worried. I can't help it.'

'Well look, it's dark now and it's pretty cold. I could come in with the four wheel drive but it's a long way to Denver. Wouldn't it be better to wait for the morning?'

Scully sighed. 'Yeah. You're probably right.' Mulder had to be better off in bed than sitting in a car for three hours.

'You're tired. Do you want me to come and sit for a bit so you can sleep.'

'No thanks,' Scully smiled. 'That's very kind of you but it's probably better if you didn't.'

'He doesn't like me huh?'

Scully grimaced. 'No. Sorry. He doesn't.'

'No biggy. How about I bring a bottle of wine again and sit with you?'

Scully grinned. 'Awfully tempting but no. Better not. I don't think I can survive another session like last night quite so soon.'

'Oh . Okay.' Shareen sounded disappointed. 'Well I guess I'd better go then. I'll call you in the morning okay. Oh and if you need me in the night don't be scared to call.'

'I will. Thanks.' Scully felt warm and cared for. 'Goodnight.'

'Night Dana.'

- - - - -

When Scully came back into Mulder's room his condition shocked her. She'd become accustomed to him gradually worsening but not having seen him for nearly an hour made her see clearly how much he had deteriorated. He was sprawled on his side in the middle of the bed, the sheet tangled around his middle. His eyes were open but glazed and unfocused. He was still distressed but was now so exhausted he just lay limp, every out going breath punctuated by a grunting sound that was a cross between a sigh and a groan. uuh- breathe - uuh.

Shit!

'Mulder.'

Slowly his eyes tracked to find her.

'Scully?' His voice was so quiet she barely heard him.

'I want to check you over again partner.'

'ughh-kay.' His eyes were rolling in his head. He couldn't focus.

The first thing she did was take his temperature. And that was now over 104. She couldn't get the room any colder. The window was open and the fan was on but the heating was connected to the whole house and couldn't be turned right off. Besides even if she could, at least half of him was nestled in the humid sauna his body heat was creating in the bed. He had been drinking well all day but it was no longer enough and he was starting to dehydrate. He was easily as sick, if not more so than he had been last night.

She contemplated. Should she ring Shareen back and get them out at least as far as her mother's motel in Wood Creek. That way, if an emergency evacuation became necessary at least they wouldn't be too hard to get to.

But that would involve a half hour trip in the freezing cold to get to a cold room and a cold bed in a dingy motel where a murder had been committed. That last was the main point, she just knew that Mulder would not want to go back there.

'Sculll…'

'Shh Mulder.' She refreshed the cloth and wiped it around his neck and across his face again. Damn, she should have moved him out this morning. It wasn't like she had managed to advance the case at all by being here was it? And Jesus, shouldn't her first priority be to her partner?

Yeah. Well if she hadn't been so mad at him it might have been. But she did have to admit that part of her had wanted to solve the case on her own, without any help from him. Which wouldn't have happened even if he had stayed home because the weather would still have been against her. But, she could have enjoyed Shareen's company without being made to feel disloyal. She heaved a sigh. When it came to Mulder nothing ever went smoothly.

Movement on the bed caught her attention as Mulder suddenly struggled to sit up. 'Don' worry 'bout me. I'm o…' very deliberate effort at speech, 'kay. Jus go get him. Get the bastard.'

'Who Mulder?' She pushed him back down and trailed the washcloth across his shoulders as far back as she could reach. Shit he had scratched raw sores onto his arms.

'Rat…. Ratboy o' course. Go get him. Catch him Scully.'

'Shh Mulder. Krychek isn't here. It's okay. You just rest.'

'He killed him Scully. He killed him. You gotta go get him. Please Scully. You gotta get him 'for he kills you.'

'Mulder, you need to rest. Krychek isn't here. Alright? Do you hear me? You're sick and delirious but you're going to be okay.' Scully wasn't at all surprised that old nightmares were haunting him but she still felt like crying. 'I'm safe too. No one is going to hurt us.' She rubbed gentle cool circles on his chest. 'Can you lift your knee up? That's right like that. Now I'm going to bend your head forward. Does that hurt anywhere?' He didn't respond, didn't even acknowledge the contortions so obviously it didn't. Well at least he hadn't progressed to meningitis. 'I'm going to run you another bath,' she told no one in particular. 'I don't know how we're going to get you in it but we'll give it our best shot.'

A bath was all she could think of to do for him. It had been so successful at lunch time she just hoped it could work the same magic again; if she could get him in and out of it without dropping him on the floor. Because if that happened he would probably have to stay there.

This time the bath water was stone cold. She got him seated on the side of the bed and heaved him upright taking most of his weight over her shoulders. Thank god it wasn't far to go. She staggered them into the bathroom and backed him up until his butt hit the edge of the bath. He gasped as he hit the cold tile and started to jump up but Scully held him down.

'In Mulder.' She shoved and he went.

He went backwards, head first and feet in the air. There was a tremendous splash of yellow water, Mulder howled and went under. Scully was surprised the water didn't steam. She grabbed him under the armpits, nearly falling in herself, hauled him around and pulled his head up. She shivered. The water was cold.

He sat gasping and blinking at her. 'Cold!' It was the first coherent thing he'd said in an hour.

'Yeah.'

'Fuck!'

The bath worked but it wasn't comfortable. To begin with he fought, thrashing around and trying to get out. Within a few minutes though he calmed down, becoming coherent enough to understand why he needed to sit in a freezing bath. He still didn't like it but he didn't fight any more. Pulling his knees up to his chest he wrapped his arms around them and dropped his head on his knees. He was exhausted, sick and thoroughly miserable. He cried.

Scully hated it when Mulder cried.

After half an hour or so he came out of his huddle and lay back in the bath. He kept his head to the side watching her, his eyes dark and full of tears. They watched each other, him in the cold water, her sitting on the wet floor beside him. They seemed to have run out of words. Every now and again he would shiver.

Finally Mulder broke the silence. 'I've been in a bath like this before.' His voice rasped past his sore throat.

'You were in a tub in Alaska to try and warm you up. That was the opposite.'

'No.' He shook his head. 'I don't mean that.' He winced and cleared his throat. In that minute he did remind Scully of when he woke up in Alaska after being so ill. 'I had a fever. When I was little.'

Scully smiled at him. 'Did you?'

'Yeah. Not chickenpox obviously. Don't know what it was.'

'Don't talk Mulder if it hurts.'

He ignored her. 'I think I was about 5 or six. It was school holidays. That really pissed me off. I should have got sick in school time.'

'Yeah. That sort of thing happened to me too.'

'I remember my Gran putting me in the bath. 's's funny. I'd forgotten. Mom and Dad…' He screwed his face up at the effort to dredge up the childhood memory. 'Mom wasn't there.' A look of horror crossed his face. 'OH…'

Scully's stomach sank. 'What Mulder?' she asked with dread.

Mulder turned on his back and stared at the ceiling his jaw working. Scully could see his fists bunch at his sides.

'What? What happened to your Mom?'

'Nothin,' he mumbled. 'It was me.' He screwed his eyes shut. 'I remember now.' For a minute the only sound was his heavy breaths. Then quietly he started to speak.

'Dad took me off school the last day of term. He was taking me to see where he worked. I was really excited. He'd never done that before.' Scully just knew she didn't want to hear this.

'I remember the morning. We had a real good time. We stopped for an icecream and played with a ball in a park. Then Dad took me into a building and said this was where he worked. It was a big place…' His voice trailed off. 'Everyone was real nice to me. Shaking my hand and saying how nice it was to meet me. Then we went into a room where everyone had white coats and Dad said they were special kinds of doctors.'

Mulder turned back to face her and there were tears running down his cheeks again. He reached out his hand and Scully grasped it. 'I don't remember any more,' he said in a small voice. 'The next thing I knew was waking up in my bed at home and I was real sick.' He swallowed painfully. 'I wanted Mom but she wasn't there. Grandma was there and she was real mad at Dad. She said that Mom had taken Sam away for a little holiday but I know she hadn't cause I heard her shouting at Dad in the hall.

'I thought she was mad because Dad had let me get sick when he took me out and I'd caught a cold and Mom had taken the baby so she wouldn't get it but that wasn't it was it?' His voice rose to a shriek. 'Dad made me get sick. Maybe it was a test. Maybe it was even a vaccine. Christ maybe it was an accident but sure as hell it was his fault. Wasn't it?'

'Mulder.' Scully was aghast.

'No wonder Mom took Samantha and ran. Christ knows what he had planned for her.'

'Mulder calm down.' She racked her brain for something to say to diffuse the situation. 'I think you're putting a little too much emphasis on a conversation you barely remember overhearing from a time when you were very young and from your account sick and feverish.'

Mulder just gazed at her, his outburst exhausting him again. But his eyes held his answer. It's true Scully they said, and you believe it too.

Nearly half an hour later he started grousing about going wrinkly. Scully tore herself away to change the bed. She hauled him out of the tub, patted him dry and rolled him onto the fresh sheet. Once again he was asleep long before she had painted him with calomine.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Mulder woke from a sound sleep to the realisation that he was being shaken. Discomfort found its way around the sleep and he held on, trying to slip back under but the shaking wouldn't stop.

'Mulder. Come on sweetheart. Wake up.'

Oh. It was Scully.

'Gerroff.'

Jesus his whole body hurt. He was so tired.

'Mulder. Come on. I need you to wake up now.'

'Ugghhhh…' Slowly he realised it was useless. He was awake and it felt bloody awful. He cracked open a painful eyelid and managed to focus on Scully's sunny smile.

'Hey. Good morning sleepy head.'

He couldn't help it. His lips twitched and raised to meet that smile. If anything Scully's smile broadened and it made the effort worth while.

'That's better.' She sat on the edge of the bed. 'I'm sorry I had to wake you but I have to go out soon. I want to get you sorted out first. I didn't want you to wake up alone and not know where I was.'

''time?'

Scully grinned and helped him up enough to drink some water. 'It's nearly eleven. You've slept about fourteen hours. How do you feel?'

Mulder gave it some thought. 'Like crap. I'm snotty and fluey and I hurt bloody everywhere. And, I'm itchy as hell.' He squirmed a bit for emphasis then lay back. 'But I think I feel better.' A slow smile worked its way over his face. 'My mind seems to be working better.'

Scully smiled some more. 'That's good. Your temperature is down and you slept really well. I think you're over the worst.'

'Thank God for that.' He looked at her suddenly suspicious. 'Where are you going?'

'Shareen has organised a video link up with the coroner and the morgue. It's not ideal but at least I can get a look at the bodies. I might be able to deduce something.'

'Is the weather still crap?'

'Yep. It snowed again last night. There is no chance of getting to Chippewa. I think we might have to give up on this one. The perp is going to be long gone. Unless something else like this happens somewhere else I don't think we're going to get him.'

Mulder sighed. 'I don't like the thought of giving up Scully. And I don't like the thought of having to wait for this to happen again.'

'I know. But we have to be realistic.' She got up. 'Anyway I haven't given up yet. I'm going to run you another bath, a bit warmer this time. Then you're going to eat something before I go. I should be back before dark so you should be alright with out me.'

'You're not letting the vulture lady back are you?'

Scully laughed and started filling the tub. Mulder toddled into the bathroom a moment later. He turned his back self consciously and used the toilet then came to stand beside her, a towel around his middle.

'I just can't work out what the Polechs were doing here,' Scully said. 'I have a feeling that if I can work that out I might have a motive, maybe even a suspect.'

'Is someone doing a background check on them?'

'Under control but nothing yet. The sherrif and his people seem to be quite efficient. I've only spoken on the phone but I don't think they trust me, it's odd.'

'They don't know you like I do.'

She raised her eyebrows. 'Shareen says it's just a thing about female law enforcement officers.'

'Ah Shareen frosty tits.'

'Mulder!'

'I don't like her and I don't trust her.'

Scully found that really patronising. 'Oh I see. Another "feeling" by Spooky Mulder?'

'Yes.'

'And what is this feeling based on then? Is it because I was enjoying myself with her the other night? Were you jealous?'

'Did I have reason to be jealous Scully? Was that cosy scene leading to something? Did I interrupt something that night?'

'Mulder!' Scully was too stunned to defend herself.

'Is that what's been happening. God I'm stupid,' he smacked his forehead. 'All this time thinking I might have a chance with you. Take it slowly and I might win the prize. Freaky Fox Mulder just might make it big with the woman of his dreams. You let me think that, but all the time I didn't stand a chance because it was never going to be me you wanted. Was it?! Was it Scully?' He was shrieking. 'You don't want me because I'm a man. You like women.'

Scully just sat there as her blood slowly turned to ice. Where the hell had this come from?

Mulder continued remorselessly. 'Did she run her fingers through your hair? Did you laugh together about your devoted partner who follows you like a puppy? Did you?' He seemed about to cry. 'How many real partners have you had since you've been with me?'

Scully handed him the bottle of pine tar lotion. She was horrified and didn't know how to start to refute what he had said. 'Put some of that in the bath,' she said coldly. She didn't believe he could think her like that. She left the room.

Half an hour later Scully was just about under control. She felt like she had been mortally wounded. She could barely breathe. Logically Scully knew Mulder was ill and not rational but it still hurt like hell because she loved him desperately. How could he not know that? They had been lovers physically for such a short time but so much more than that for so much longer. Surely he knew how she felt. But apparently he didn't. He didn't seem to know her at all. And now..? If he thought that, how could he ever trust her again? And if he thought that, could she trust him?

Scully curled on a sofa "reading" a magazine as she ignored noises from upstairs. Finally Mulder staggered downstairs dressed in the towelling robe. Scully sat up. They had to get on. They had to work together. They had to salvage something.

'Hi. Are you feeling better?' He actually looked better except that he'd been crying. She reached the back of her hand to his forehead and he leant into her touch. Much cooler. She snatched her hand away.

'Scully,' he was hesitant, his voice gruff. 'I am so sorry. I was way out of line.'

'Yes Mulder you were.'

'I'm just, I was.., god,' he hitched at his sleeve indicating the spots. 'I was going mad. Please Scully...' Tears weren't far away.

'Did you mean it?' So much hung on the answer.

He looked at her, his eyes dark with pain, his need for her written all over him. 'No.'

She suspected he'd thought about that pretty hard in the last half hour.

'Scully?'

She held out her hand and he took it sinking down beside her. She could feel his heart racing. They were both shaking and she gathered him into her arms. 'It's alright Mulder. We'll work it out.' He stank of coal tar lotion.

Mulder buried his head in her chest. Scully's fingers ran gently across his scalp feeling the spots there as he slowly calmed. With his old trick of reading her mind he said, 'That stuff worked well.' He grinned, 'Even the inside of my ears feel better. It smells awful though.'

'Well we won't hold that against it. It's been a lifesaver I think.' They seemed to make a tacit understanding to talk about innocuous things. 'Do you feel like eating anything?'

He didn't, but Scully insisted.

Scully went ferreting through the kitchen cupboards and discovered lots of tins and dry provisions. Peaches seemed like just what the doctor ordered. When tempted Mulder found they slipped down quite easily.

Scully decided to heat up last night's leftovers for herself. She came back with her plate to find Mulder sitting up on the sofa flicking through her magazine. 'Do you have to go out this afternoon then?'

''Fraid so. About two I've got a video link with the coroner.'

'Scully,' he motioned towards her plate, 'Is that what Shareen made the other night?'

'No. It's what her Mom made for me last night. It was really nice of her.'

'Could I try some of that?'

Scully was puzzled. 'Are you sure you're up to it?'

'I just want a taste.'

'Okay.' She passed him the fork, held out the plate. 'What?' He seemed odd. Was he about to launch into another tirade about Shareen and her mom?

But he didn't. He didn't say anything. He took a mouthful, then his face dropped and he bolted up like he was stung. A quick fumble with the door and he fell out onto the terrace on his hands and knees. His body heaved and he started to vomit.

- - - -

Mulder hunched on the snow on the terrace as his body ejected his horror. Muscle spasms forced his jaw wide and rolling waves of muscle contractions through his abdomen shot his stomach contents out to spatter steaming in the snow. He felt a moment of acute embarrassment as his sphincters were forced open before all conscious thought left him as the spasms went on and on. He was turning inside out. His vision started tunnelling and he had no chance to draw breath.

- - - -

Scully stared in surprise. She expected him to stop throwing up, to wipe his hand over his mouth and come back inside. But he didn't. He stayed there on his knees, his whole body convulsing. There was nothing left for him to bring up, no bile even but the retching continued. Cautiously she came up behind him. Her heart sank as she registered the smell of more than just vomit. What the hell was wrong?

Her mind raced through the possibilities and the complications of chickenpox. Meningitis seemed to be the only thing that would make him this sick but it didn't really fit, he didn't seem ill enough in any other way.

'Mulder?' She knelt beside him. His arms were shaking with effort and he was about to collapse. 'Mulder, try to relax.' Frightened she put her arms around his chest and rolled him across her knees. He collapsed on her, heavy, his torso tight with convulsions, his head hanging. She tried rubbing his abdomen. 'Try to let it go.' The position change seemed to help and the spasms eased. He started gasping in great lungs full of cold air, tears streaming down his cheeks. 'Easy,' she soothed using the collar of his robe to wipe bile off his chin. An after shock hit him and he retched again. 'Easy.'

As his breath came back he sagged against her, completely spent. 'Hell Mulder. That was impressive.' He wasn't the only one who could make light of bad situations.

Eventually he gained enough strength to lift his head and look up, his eyes full of tears. 'I want to go home,' he said.

Scully smiled, relieved. 'That's a little difficult. But do you think we could go inside. It's pretty cold out here.'

- - - -

Getting Mulder inside had been a mission and now he lay on the sofa as Scully calmly went about cleaning him up. She was a gentle and matter of fact as a mother washing her child and Mulder was ridiculously grateful. He knew she was taking the chance to check him over and that she was very worried by what had happened but he was too tired and scared to tell her what was behind it. He was shivering and his insides hurt from the violence of the vomiting attack.

Scully finished with her washcloth and left him while she went to get some blankets. He didn't know what to do. He didn't want to take the chance of loosing her again but he knew he had to tell her. The trouble was, she wouldn't want to believe him.

She came back with a quilt and tucked it around him so gently and carefully that it made him cry. He was embarrassed about that too. Acting like a baby seemed to be all he was good for at the moment. He scrubbed his face into the pillow trying to hide how he was feeling.

Scully settled on the floor beside him and stroked, her hand running down his hair, his side, his back, saying nothing. She seemed to sense that he needed contact but he needed space as well. Content it seemed to Mulder to stay with him forever. How could he possibly do something so stupid as to break that spell?

Oh god he had to.

He must have tensed because she looked up, expectant, waiting. Maybe, he thought, maybe she has already guessed. He swallowed, then cleared his throat. 'Um Scully. Don't get mad at me. Please don't get mad.'

'What is it Mulder?'

He hesitated, not sure how to put it.

'What?' Her blue eyes were searching the depths his. 'What is so bad? Is it what made you sick?'

So she'd figured that getting sick had nothing to do with chickenpox. He had to say it. 'Scully, the murder. Fuck!' He just blurted it out. 'Are there any body parts missing?'

'What? I don't know, it's a bit hard to tell.' Mulder could see she was thinking it through. 'Do you think...'

'Where did the meat come from?' he asked quietly.

She blanched. 'I never saw it. She brought it all with her.'

He nodded at the plate and swallowed hard, squeamish again. 'Get it tested. Please.'

'Mulder, that's a dreadful thing to say.'

'I know Scully, I know. But don't you see what is so odd about this case.'

'What?'

'No one seems to care.'

She looked at him like he was demented.

'Scully don't you get it. It's a horrible, horrible crime. Wouldn't normal people be raising the roof looking for a killer? Shouldn't they be afraid to sleep at night? Wouldn't they at least be worrying about the reputation of the town? Aren't people usually queuing up to give us little details that "might be important"? It's Sherlock Holmes' dog that didn't bark Scully. No one here seems to care.'

'Alright Mulder,' she said in that tone of voice he knew so well. Obviously he had the word DELERIUM stamped across his forehead again. 'If that is the case, who did it and why? And,' she added triumphantly, 'Why did they call in the authorities in the first place?'

'I don't know,' he said tiredly. 'Just none of this feels right.'

'Mulder face it. You just don't feel right, right now.' But she did seem to be thinking. They sat quietly for a while. Mulder was finally warming up but it was a mixed blessing. The itch was coming back. 'Scully?' This was really important. 'You're not mad at me are you?'

She took his hand and held it against her cheek. 'No.'

'Be careful. Please.'

'Sure Mulder. Now what are we going to do about you?' and he could tell she'd rejected everything he'd said.

- - - -

Damn and screw you Fox Mulder! Scully was seething. Even with a temperature spiking at 104 he could still make her believe in his bizarre imaginings, at least enough to make her mistrust her own observations. Scully wanted to be friends with Shareen. She liked being friends with Shareen. Mulder's hypothesis had to have come from fever mixed with jealousy. Even so, Scully felt uneasy.

Scully had left Mulder as okay as she could manage. He was back in bed following another bath, more tylenol and a glass of lucozade. He was so exhausted he could barely move. Scully had tucked him into clean sheets and held his hand while he very quickly went to sleep.

Shareen was incredulous that Scully was considering leaving him alone.

'He's exhausted. He promised he would stay in bed,' Scully insisted.

'Even if chased by killer cockroaches?'

'Yes even then.' Shareen couldn't be a killer, let alone a cannibal. She was just the sort of person Scully enjoyed being with. And yet there were lots of questions with no answers. With all the "circumstances beyond anyone's control" this case was one of the most frustrating she had worked recently.

Shareen left Scully alone to talk to the coroner via video link. Scully wasn't sure whether or not to be relieved. Damn Mulder's suspicions.

The picture quality on the video wasn't good, and the coroner wasn't a very good camera operator, but Scully got the idea. After introducing themselves, Dan the coroner turned the camera to pan around the morgue. There were three mortuary tables covered with what looked like the leftovers from a butcher's shop. On two tables were the painstakingly put together pieces of two bodies, by far the largest pile on the central table were the bits as yet unaccounted for. 'We may have to rely on tissue typing for the most of it,' Dan said.

His assistant looked up from where he was turning a lump of rib bones over in his hands. He eyeballed the camera and waved. Scully winced.

'So what exactly do you know?' she asked.

The camera panned around to one table. 'This is Christopher Polech. Well at least it's his head,' the camera dipped to show a gold tooth, 'and his femur which has a pin in it.' He started to move on. Scully could see the technician try to fit the piece he held with the half built ribcage already on the table. It obviously didn't fit because he moved out of shot, presumably to try it against the other body.

Scully's eye caught something. 'Dan,' she stopped the camera man. 'Show me that leg again. Just run down it slowly.' She let her breath out in a hiss. 'Has that muscle been filleted?'

'Well funny you should say that because I was thinking that meself.' He moved the camera back to the top of the leg. The bone had been severed just below the joint but the muscle looked to have been deliberately sliced off. 'Just there,' he said. 'Right?'

'Right.'

'Dan have you got enough remains there for two bodies?'

'I don't know Agent Scully. It's a bit too early to tell.'

Jesus Scully thought. What sort of Mickey Mouse shop are you running? Surely they would have weighed the remains as one of their first tasks. Another thought struck her. Christopher. 'Dan tell me the victims names again.'

'Ah, Christopher and Gavin Polech. Brothers from Miami.'

'Brothers?'

'Yeah what?'

'Nothing. It's alright.' Odd. Shareen had led her to believe they were a married couple. Or had she? Had she just assumed? She'd come back to that thought. She didn't want to think about it right now. 'Dan, you know anything about their weight and build? Can you get all this stuff weighed, that way we'll be able to tell if anything is missing.'

'You think there is?'

'Yes Dan. I think there is.' Oh shit.

Men. Not a man and a woman. The victims were men. "She doesn't like men," Mulder had said. Men. Was that the key?

Scully didn't know when Shareen would be back and for the time being she was quite pleased that she wasn't around. She thanked Dan for his time and wandered out into the street to get some air. The air up in the mountains was pristine! Well maybe not quite. There was just the hint of wood smoke, evocative and soothing in the air. The town was beautiful with its blanket of snow over the buildings and on the trees behind. At last the sun was starting to come through and the mountains showed in stark relief against the sky.

The road and side walks had been cleared so Scully walked up to the General Store to buy some things for the next few days. Under the circumstances it wouldn't hurt to buy their own provisions. The girl in the store was chatty enough. Disconcertingly she not only knew who Scully was but seemed to know all about Mulder's chickenpox too. She was full of advice. Scully felt like she had fallen into some 50's small village time warp.

Next she went to the pharmacy to get more pine tar lotion. The woman there knew about the cockroaches. Apparently Mrs Murphy had a mouth on her then. Everyone was so pleasant and concerned. Maybe small towns really were like this but it felt unnatural. Scully swore. Damn it Mulder. You're making me paranoid. The whole town couldn't be in on it could they? But Mulder was right. Why weren't they making more than the most basic references to the murder?

She was nearly back at the deputy's office when Shareen's truck pulled up alongside her. 'Hi there,' she said. 'I think I'm finished for the day. How 'bout you?'

'I think so, yes. This is frustrating.'

'Fancy a drink?'

'No.' Actually she did but now she had to treat her as a suspect. 'I'd better get back.'

'Okay. I'll run you up now.' She was friendly, obliging. 'You'll be able to get up to Chippewa tomorrow. You'll be able to meet Dan the Man in person. That'll be a treat for you.' She chattered away all the way to the lodge.

Man. There was something about men that was on the tip of Scully's tongue, but I just couldn't bring it out. Men.

- - - -

She opened the lodge door and hesitated. It was cold. The door to the terrace was open and surely she'd closed it after they came inside. Puzzled Scully was sure she had. A dreadful fear filled her belly. She drew her gun, her throat dry. 'Mulder?' She looked at the open door. There were footprints in the snow below the steps.

'Mulder?' She knew before she'd even started to climb the stairs that he wouldn't be in his bed. She could feel the house was empty. He wasn't there.

He wasn't there. The bed was cold, his things were strewn around the room, everything looked just the same as before but he wasn't there. Her heart stopped and she screamed. 'Mulder!'

And Shareen burst through the door, her gun at the ready.

'Dana? What's wrong?' She took in the scene. 'Where is he?' She holstered her gun.

'I don't know. He's just gone.'

'The door's open downstairs. Has he gone for a walk?'

'He wouldn't. He couldn't.'

'Have you checked the rest of the house?'

Scully shook her head.

'You look upstairs, I'll take down.'

He wasn't there. She knew he wasn't. They met on the stairs and something pinged in Scully's mind. 'Shareen, what are you doing here?'

'You left your groceries in the car.' She was all business. 'What was he wearing?'

'Um.' Scully struggled to think. 'Tee shirt and shorts.'

'Could he have got dressed?'

Scully froze.

'Dana. Get a grip. The sun's going down, it will get very cold soon. Go and look at his clothes and see if he got dressed.'

As far as she could tell his clothes were all there. He usually only brought one set of casual clothes on assignment. Jeans, track pants, pyjama pants, Scully catalogued. Suits... everything seemed to be either in the bag, the closet or spread over the floor. Shareen stood at the door. Scully shook her head.

'The footsteps outside lead out into the forest. Dana,' Shareen looked at her sadly. 'I'm fairly sure he hasn't got shoes on.'

'I know.' Scully tried to pull myself together. She pointed to the floor where both shoes and trainers could be seen. 'God, what was happening in his head to make him run out like that?'

'Dana.' Shareen shook her. 'Dana, how long? Come on, you're the doctor. How long have we got to find him.' She had her phone out, was dialling a number.

'I don't know,' she whispered. 'He was pretty sick. It might already be too late.'

- - - - -

Mulder came roaring out of a dream filled sleep to a confused and frightening reality. He knew instantly what was happening and cursed himself for not being prepared but by the time he surfaced his hands and feet were already cuffed. Even if his gun had been under his pillow he probably wouldn't have got to it in time. His screams were cut off as something was forced into his mouth. He struggled and choked as the gag hit the back of his throat and realised with pure terror that his blocked nose would barely let him breathe!

He fought. He wasn't going to go easily. Using his tongue to try and move the gag forward in his mouth he was able to keep from choking. Some air came through his nose and as long as he kept breathing he was going to struggle. He wasn't going to make it easy for them. They didn't bother with a blindfold. It didn't matter. He knew before he was even awake who had come for him.

Halfway down the stairs he managed to heave out of their arms. It wasn't a victory because he crashed head first to the bottom. Shareen gave up trying to be nice then. She just grabbed the cuffs around his ankles and dragged him towards the door. Pain ricocheted through him. He was stunned, choking. He had no fight left. The world was swimming.

'Aw for chrissake. He's bleeding,' he heard her say. 'Make sure you wipe that up'

So much for leaving a fucking trail he thought ... He passed out.

He came to again in the back of the truck as it bounced up what was obviously a rough track. There was an argument going on in the front. 'For chrissake Mam,' Shareen was saying. 'You can't use him, he's infectious.'

No one, it appeared was going to know.

For a time all Mulder could concentrate on was breathing. He was barely getting any air. Scully. Her name rumbled through his head like a charm. Help me! He explored the gag with his tongue, feeling it and testing his ability to breathe. He decided it was a sock, held in place by tape on the outside. No air came around it. Left to itself it fell against the back of his throat choking him. He had to constantly work to keep it forward. He contemplated trying to swallow it but vetoed the idea concentrating instead on holding it forward and forcing air through his swollen nose. Just breathe Fox, just breathe.

Scully, I need you!

He couldn't breathe. His mind came and went. He couldn't breathe. By the time he was dumped in a hole under a barn he had pretty much solved the crime. It wasn't going to do him any good. He was going to be next.

He was sick, the bile shooting up his throat and out his nose. For the first time he was grateful for his earlier vomiting attack. His stomach was empty and if it hadn't been he would have died. Desperately, desperately he swallowed, holding it down, trying to breathe. No, please god, don't let me die like this. Breathe. I'm panicking Scully. I'm making that face. Breathe. Don't let me die.

- - - -

Men. There were hoards of great big solid men. They filled the house to overflowing. Men, the first shift of the Chippewa Search and Rescue team, back with no news, no sightings, no clues. The footprints disappeared into the river 50 yards downstream, then there was nothing.

Shareen moved to whisper to the leader but Scully knew what they were saying, it was 10pm and below freezing outside, it didn't take rocket science to work it out.

Solicitously Captain McCall came over. Everyone was treating Scully with the gentleness reserved for victims of tragedy and it was starting to annoy her. She had to admit though, somehow she had fallen into that role. Setting down a cup of long cold coffee she gave herself a mental shake and stood up to greet him. 'Agent Scully. How are you bearing up?' Obviously she wasn't expected to answer that. 'I've just learnt that the Denver Avalanche team will be here first thing. With their dogs,' he explained.

She nodded, trying to think of something to say but her mind seemed stuffed with cotton wool. The Captain gave her a pitying smile and patted her hand. He was a nice man Scully thought through her fear. A nice man. Shit, the first man she'd seen since she'd been in Wood Creek. Shit! Men! She jerked and crashed back into the coffee table. The cup and contents splashed to the floor.

Everyone jumped to help but Scully waved them off. 'Its alright.' She was flustered. Thoughts were fighting to form and she looked at the puddle of coffee suspiciously. She needed space to think. 'It's okay.

I'll clean it.'

Fleeing to the kitchen Scully started to see what had been nagging her all day. She had not seen any men in Wood Creek, not today, not yesterday, not the day before. No men except Mulder. Oh god no!

Suddenly she saw the connections she had been missing. Running on auto pilot she reached for the dishcloth. It was dry so she started to wet it, then wrenched it out from under the water and stared at it. It was covered in blood. Oh lord it was true. Her stomach heaved but instinct took over. Shoving it in her pocket she tried to force her bleary mind to work. She had no doubt now that there had been something added to her coffee to keep her quiet. But thankfully she hadn't drunk more than a third. Stay cool Dana, she told herself. Play it out.

Returning to the lounge she found Shareen. It took tremendous control to keep her posture dejected and her face neutral. 'I'm going to lie down for a bit,' she managed to say. She imagined she saw relief on the Deputy's face. Waving off her looks of pity and offers of help Scully fled upstairs.

She made it to Mulder's bed, locking the doors behind her before her legs gave out. Her heart was thudding in her chest and shudders ran through her as she stared at the dishcloth. She had cleared up after breakfast, with this cloth. Following that she was sure she had left it clean, draped over the taps to dry. She had never gotten around to cleaning up the ill-fated lunch. It had been forgotten after Mulder's vomiting as she concentrated on cleaning him up and getting him back to bed. It wasn't inconceivable but she didn't think any one had injured themselves in even a minor way since then. So instinct, yes Mulder, and logic, told her whose blood it had to be.

Slowly she calmed and her investigative instincts came back. What was wrong with this room? It was untidy, but Mulder's space always was. The bed. The bed looked slept in but that was all, not tossed and turned in. It wasn't the way this bed had looked every other time he had been out of it recently. The bed was too tidy. It had been tidied then made to look slept in. He had been taken. It would have been conclusive but Scully already knew.

Scully swallowed as visions of the Polech brothers' remains swam in front of her eyes. Men. She shuddered. God damn Mulder. You were right. My man, she thought. Mulder. Where was he? What had they done to him? God, she began pacing. What could she do? She lent her head against the cold window. I'm coming Mulder. She tried to send her thoughts. Hold on, I'm coming.

- - - -

Death was back. Mulder could feel the black wings wrapped around him again. They were so soft and so cold. He reached out to the only talisman he had. I am tired Scully but I know you're coming. It is so hard to breathe. I'm trying so hard. I'm so cold. Please Scully, come soon.


	3. Chapter 3

Wood Creek 3

Wood Creek 3

- - - -

Pulling herself together Scully started planning. Her mind was now working with startling clarity. She was good like this, good in a crisis. She swept her eyes around the room a plan already formed. There were a few things here she needed. Where were they? Where would he have put them? The usual place?

Scully opened the top drawer of the bedside cabinet. Yes, thank god. They hadn't taken it. But they couldn't have could they if they wanted it to look as if he wandered off. She put the gun in her pocket then searched the rest of the drawers. In amongst some revolting handkerchiefs she found the other thing she was looking for, Mulder's pocket knife.

Scully moved quietly back across the hall to her own room as she worked out the details. So much unfortunately would have to rely on chance. She changed her clothes, putting two pairs of tights on under her trousers, a tee shirt of Mulder's under her warmest shirt with a woollen sweater on top.

Sitting on the bed she used nail scissors to open a careful hole in the lining of her coat. Wrapping the weapon in a hanky so that it wouldn't clank she dropped it and the pocket knife in the hole and settled them in opposite corners of the hem. She tried the coat on and it seemed to hang alright, or not noticeably differently. She turned around and around in front of the mirror. It was okay.

Next she unplugged her phone from where it had been recharging by the bed. It had been there about five hours now. It should be fully charged by now. She just wasn't sure how long it would last.

Nearly ready. She checked her own gun, went to the bathroom and had a large drink of water. Then she put her coat on, drew breath and called Skinner.

When he answered his phone her boss was at the airport. He was just about to get on the evening's last flight to Denver. He sounded embarrassed about coming out but Scully was touched. She knew he thought a great deal of Mulder but it hadn't occurred to her that he would actually come out to Colorado when he was missing. He had never done that before. Mind you, Mulder had never wandered out into the snow while delirious with chickenpox before. However that wasn't what had happened. There wasn't time for that now.

Scully started explaining the situation as it now stood, both her suspicions and her concerns for Mulder's safety. She concentrated on giving a clear, concise report. She needed the AD to believe her now.

Bless him, he did. Before she'd even finished the telling he was ordering someone in the background to use another phone and get on to the station chief in Denver, to cancel his ticket and get him a jet chartered NOW. The boss was on his way. Scully sagged slightly with relief.

Then she told him what she planned to do. He didn't like that at all.

Back downstairs Scully searched for Shareen. She worked hard on looking woebegone, slumping her shoulders and dropping her head. The house was full of men again. Another search party had come back. Captain McCall spotted her and came over.

'Agent Scully, I'm afraid there is very little we can do now until morning. We've just called the search off for the night, we'll resume again at first light.' He took her hand. 'I'm very sorry.'

'Thank you,' Scully mumbled. She daren't say any more.

And then Shareen was there, her arm around her shoulder. 'Hi,' she said in a voice dripping with concern. 'Couldn't sleep, I'm not surprised. Do you want coffee?'

'No,' the catch in Scully's voice was not feigned at all. 'Shareen, could you show me where... where the footprints go? Where he went. I need to see.'

'Of course. Sure I will. Just hang on will you, I'll get my coat.'

Scully sat on the arm of the sofa and waited. The men were leaving and Shareen farewelled them before coming over with her coat. Her mother Scully noticed was no where in sight and she was sure she'd been there earlier.

They went down the steps from the terrace, Scully's eye caught by the vomit now frozen in the snow, and all it implied. All the lights were on. It was as bright as day around the house but the woods were completely black. It was crisply, fatally cold and she tried not to think of a warm body lying somewhere in the snow. The actual footprints had long since disappeared under countless others and she cursed herself for not having examined them properly when she'd had the chance. Too late now.

Shareen took her down below the house to the left and stopped on the riverbank. She made a show of looking into the water, shining her torch around at the trees. No sign of Mrs Murphy Scully noticed. She couldn't wait any longer.

'Okay Shareen,' She shone the torch in her eyes, had her gun trained on her before she could move. 'Where is he? What have you done with him?'

'What,' she blustered. 'What do you mean? Dana you don't...'

'Cut the shit!' Scully could hardly contain the anger that suddenly boiled through her. 'I thought you were my friend. Now - what - the fuck - have you done - with - him?' She advanced on her, the gun aimed at her forehead the whole way.

Shareen spread her arms wide, she was cool. 'Dana, I am your friend, but you're going to ruin it like this.'

'Drop your gun.'

Very carefully she pulled it from the holster and dropped it at her feet.

'That's better, now turn around and walk back to the cars.' She turned. 'Slowly, keep you hands up, behind your head.'

'Okay. Look Dana, you've got this all wrong.'

Scully ignored her. 'I'm going to ask you some questions Shareen, and you're going to answer. Where is Mulder?'

'Aw come on?'

'Alright, let's try another one. Are you gay?'

'What?'

'Are you a lesbian?'

'What if I am?'

'Yes or no?' Scully was scanning the trees, the side of the building. She couldn't see anyone.

'Yes. Next question.'

'Which one of the Polech brothers did your mother serve up for dinner last night?'

'What? You're joking right?'

'Let's try an easier one. Is Mulder still alive?'

But she never heard the answer for the shadows moved. She turned instinctively but - too late. The blow caught her on the side of her head just behind her ear. The world roared with pain and she crashed into the snow.

She was only out for seconds. Scully came to, fighting the nausea and the body that was kneeling on her neck. She didn't stand a chance. They tied her hands behind her back then Shareen yanked her to her feet. Scully's head was exploding and she nearly collapsed again, but Shareen had tight hold of her. Scully looked at her through eyes blinded by tears, not so much of pain as rage.

'Such a shame Dana,' Shareen said. 'You were too bloody clever. I liked you too.' Mrs Murphy cackled like a demented rooster. If Scully could have spat she would have.

The truck ride was shorter than Scully was expecting. She estimated they turned off the main road on to a rough track only a couple of miles out of town. The truck bounced, throwing her around in the back with no way to anchor herself. She tried to pillow her sore head on her shoulder but could do nothing save herself from crashing onto the hard floor every few seconds. She distracted herself by listening to Shareen and her mom arguing in the front about how they were going to stage her disappearance. It did nothing to cheer her up. It seemed that she would be overcome by grief and take to her bed. The search teams would be moved back into town. That would give the culprits at least twenty four hours before anyone became suspicious.

Oh yeah, Scully thought. But then the next thing she heard made her blood run cold. The kill would have to take place before dawn so that the searchers wouldn't notice everyone moving around.

Everyone? Who was everyone?

Mrs Murphy suggested that they left the others out, but Shareen didn't like that idea. It was what held it all together she said. Their all being present and all taking part. They talked so matter of factly that Scully had trouble believing they were talking about murder. Then came the worst bit... Mrs Murphy would have to pack the meat alone. Shareen couldn't afford anyone else to be out of sight, not as she said, since the place would be crawling with FBI by lunch time.

Scully's brain refused to believe what she'd heard. Horror, fear and her head injury combined and she was sick. Part of her was pleased about that. By the time they stopped she'd made an awful mess of the back of Shareen's truck.

Hauling Scully out of the back of the vehicle Shareen seemed to have lost all humanity. Scully had trouble keeping on her feet. Her head spun and she fought for control, determined not to collapse. She needed her wits and she needed as much information as she could gather. Unfortunately it wasn't much. The night was dark as a coal mine with the barest hint of trees surrounding them. A building loomed in front of her and she was being dragged towards it. Her foot caught on something and she stumbled before Shareen jerked her upright. She bit her lip, using the sharp pain to keep the focus from the pain in her head.

Mrs Murphy was opening the door to what proved to be a tumble down barn. Shareen gave Scully a shove and she stumbled across the threshold. 'Before dawn then Shareen?' Her voice was hoarse and she had to clear her throat. 'That's how long I've got?'

'Yep.' Shareen didn't seem to be in the mood to talk.

'And then what? Meat packs, is that right?'

'Yep. Expensive meat.'

'And that's what it's all about?'

Shareen gave a truly evil laugh and shoved her captive into the darkness. 'Partly. Only partly.'

It was totally dark in the barn, all except for where Mrs Murphy was crouched on the floor pulling at something by torchlight. Shareen pushed Scully again and she stumbled forwards. And then she fell. Down.

She screamed.

She fell forever, or no time at all, the fall of nightmares. Then she landed, awkward, hard, on something yielding. Something she instantly recognised as a body even as a white hot pain shot from her ankle to every nerve ending in her body. 'MULDER!!'

Sobbing with pain she desperately tried to nudge him into life but there was no response. She was too late. 'NO!'

A torch beam suddenly shot down the pit, showing the sheer walls about ten feet high and the pitiful crumpled figure Scully had landed on. 'Dana,' Shareen's voice asked. 'Do you love him?'

'What?' The pain was making her stupid.

'Do you love him?'

Scully looked up but couldn't see the person behind the light. 'Yes.' Question asked and answered. Of course she did. There had never been any question of that.

'Thought so,' Shareen snorted in disgust. 'Guess what,' she didn't wait for an answer. 'You'll be our first woman. You've got till dawn.' She stood then something heavy crashed over the top of the pit. The darkness was complete and for the shortest moment Scully gave in to despair. She shut her eyes and let out a moan of absolute pain. She was desolate, a great emptiness roaring through her. Her body shook and she collapsed across Mulder's body. He was so cold, so still. 'No, oh no. No, please Mulder, no.'

Oh Christ. Her heart nearly stopped. She froze, her head on his chest. At first she didn't dare believe it. There under her ear, faint and erratic, his heart was still beating. 'Oh Jesus. Oh Jesus thank you.'

Now she had to work out how to help him. She had to calm herself. Some deep breaths forced her own heart to calm. She wriggled to a better position and listened to his chest, awkward, her hands behind her back. There were hardly any breath sounds. His breathing was terribly shallow. Then she remembered what she'd seen in the torch light. A gag. He was slowly suffocating.

She had to turn her back to reach it with her hands. The way her hands were tied made it awkward to get hold of the edge of the tape. Her fingernail scratched at his cold skin until she wriggled a corner free and got a finger under the tape. Then she could rip it off. She groped blindly until she had whatever was in his mouth and yanked it out. It was slimy and smelt. He gagged and gasped and started to choke.

Oh Christ. With her back to him she reached for his shoulder, taking a handful of his tee shirt and wrenching him over onto his side. It was enough. Thank god, it was enough. He coughed weakly, gasped and continued to breathe. Scully burst into tears.

She took a minute, adrenaline was running out fast and she was aware how badly she hurt. Her head wasn't so bad any more but she was bruised all over and her ankle was a white hot pain that flared at the slightest movement. She didn't have the luxury of giving in to any of it. Mulder didn't have the luxury. She sniffed and still crying set about getting herself free.

It was a struggle. She didn't need situations like this to remind her that she wasn't as flexible as she used to be. It took a lot of wriggling and a far amount of pain from her damaged ankle but she eventually managed to get her hands underneath her bottom then down her legs. The next bit was excruciating and she had to steel herself to do it. She wasn't sure she could do it but a quick check of her ear to Mulder's chest convinced her to try. Taking a big breath she wrenched her ankles between her wrists and brought her hands to the front.

Inspite of herself she screamed. Nausea grabbed her and it took her long seconds to recover, her body shaking and chilled. She just hoped Mulder, in whichever place he was in, hadn't heard her scream.

Once she had control again then it was relatively simple to get the knife. She said a little prayer of thanks that they hadn't thought to search her. Cutting the rope was harder. She could open the knife but she couldn't hold it and move it against the rope. The thought of dropping it on the uneven floor in the dark wasn't pleasant either. In the end she held it in her mouth, desperately sawing the cord against the blade until it parted.

Then finally she could see to Mulder.

It didn't take long to realise that she wasn't going to be able to free him from his bonds. He was handcuffed tightly, wrist and ankles. And he had been cuffed by a professional, someone who knew to lock the cuffs with the key so they couldn't be knocked free.

It took even less time to realise that he was gravely ill. How long until dawn? She estimated the time at about 1 am, she still had no watch. He wasn't going to make it.

Mulder's lungs were full of fluid. He was barely getting any air to the tiny aveoli where gas exchange occurred. Scully guessed he must have been taken pretty much straight after Shareen had left her in her office in the afternoon. That was about 2.30. That meant that he'd been gagged, barely breathing since then and it had taken a terrible toll on him. His lungs, already congested from illness hadn't been able to cope. He had been unable to take a deep breath or cough for 11 hours. Fluid had collected which he couldn't clear. Oxygen depletion would have affected all his organs. She had no way of telling how badly this had happened, but he was deeply unconscious and that gave her a clue. It was a very bad sign.

She took her coat off and wrapped it around him, tucking it underneath in an effort to insulate him from the icy dirt floor. He was cold now, exposure to cold and lack of oxygen to fuel his metabolism cancelling out the fever. She sat down then, behind him, lifting his dead weight up against her chest. She pillowed his head on her left shoulder and hugged him tight. 'Keep breathing Mulder, keep fighting.'

He seemed so much smaller than she remembered, so very fragile as she wrapped her body around his. Oh god she couldn't go through this again. She couldn't loose him now. Not after everything they had been through. This was the end this time. Whatever happened tonight this was never going to happen again. She argued with him, crooned to him, shared her warmth, and her breath, and her heart.

- - - -

Deputy Director Skinner had spent one of the worst nights of his life. He had heard Agent Scully attacked, heard her scream in fear and pain. He had heard her agony as she thought her partner dead, and for the last two hours he had heard her share her most secret thoughts with her unconscious partner as she struggled to keep him alive.

Now at last he had something to tell her.

'Scully,' he said into the phone. 'Agent Scully. It's AD Skinner. Can you hear me?'

- - - -

'Scully,' a voice said in the silence.

Scully started out of a doze.

'Agent Scully. It's AD Skinner.'

The phone!

'Can you hear me.'

'Hold on sir. Hang on.' She had to untangle herself from Mulder and then find her way into the coat lining. Finally she found it.

'Can you hear me? Scully? Hello.'

'Yes sir, I'm here.' Her heart was pounding and her ankle was protesting at the sudden movement.

'Good.' He didn't wait for preliminaries or "how are you"s. After all he knew since he'd been listening since Scully began the call in the bedroom 2 hours ago. 'The assault team is assembled. They can be with you in 15 minutes.'

Scully sagged in relief. 'Thank God.'

'We've got a doctor and intensive care team standing by. They'll have him in Denver in less than an hour.'

'Ssir.' Scully stopped him. 'How long till dawn?'

'About another four hours.'

'Sir. We catch the bad guys right?'

'That's not always the most important thing Agent Scully.'

'I know sir, but what if we can do both.'

- - - -

Mulder woke slowly. It was like dragging himself from a warm heavy puddle, slowly surfacing, reaching for the light. There were quiet voices, hands lifting him, his body heavy and quite limp.

His eyes eased open and he couldn't fathom what he was looking at. A fuzzy view of what seemed to be an abundant cleavage between two large chocolate coloured breasts floated in front of him. Heaven, he mused, surely not. He whimpered. The next thing two lively dark eyes were smiling at him and things came into focus. A nurse, it was a nurse bending down, her arms under his body. 'Hello there,' she whispered. 'Just lie quiet honey. We're just turning you over. Shh,' as he tried to speak. 'We don't want to wake your friend.'

Turn him over they did. Quietly and efficiently they moved him, bits of tubing and numerous pillows. One minute he was facing one way, the next minute the other and it made him dizzy. When he opened his eyes again it was to see the concerned eyes of the dark nurse in front of him. His vision expanded to show a fairly typical hospital room. 'How are you doing sweet?' She stroked his hair. Tucked tubes back up his nose.

Mulder didn't know how he was doing. His mind seemed to have lost the ability to process more than the most basic things. Mainly he could see and hear and remember to breathe but he couldn't fathom how to reply. He bit at his dry lips and she brought some water and a straw. He barely had the strength to suck, could hardly remember how. The nurse moved to put the glass down and behind her Mulder saw Scully. She was curled, sound asleep in a battered recliner armchair, a blanket pulled up to her throat. He'd never seen anything so beautiful.

'Scully.' Her name was an automatic reflex. His voice barely stirred the air. His throat constricted and his eyes filled with tears.

'Hey sugar?' the nurse wiped his eyes.

'I thought she was dead.'

'No sweet, she's not dead. She's not left your side since the morning you got here. You're a lucky man.'

His brain tried to work. 'How long?'

'Four days now. You were very ill.' She motioned towards Scully. 'Dana here has done all your cares that we'd let her. She'll be cross that we didn't wake her to help do the turn, but she's not slept much lately.'

'Scully.'

'Okay there. You want I should wake her to say hello? I don't think she'd mind.'

He shook his head an infinitesimal amount. 'No.' More tears were flowing and he couldn't stop them. Scully looked beautiful. He could gaze at her forever. Why had he thought she were dead? He couldn't remember now. What had he done to deserve her devotion? He didn't know that either. 'Let her sleep.' He couldn't bear the thought of waking her up.

- - - - - - -

The next time he awoke, it was to the awareness that someone was holding his hand.

'Scully.'

But when he opened his eyes he found himself looking into the concerned and slightly embarrassed eyes of not Scully but Walter Skinner.

He was facing the other way again. He'd obviously slept through that "turn" and wondered vaguely if Scully had helped. It was full daylight.

'Agent Mulder?'

Mulder looked past him. 'Scully. Where's Scully?' His voice came out as a barely audible croak. Skinner seemed to know what he said.

'She's fine Mulder. They brought in Shareen Frost this morning. I told her to go, I'd sit with you.'

A suspicion entered his brain. 'Do I need sitting with?'

Skinner grinned. 'No. But it makes Scully feel better.'

Mulder smiled but his tongue stuck to the roof of his dry mouth. His teeth were thick with goo. He grimaced.

Skinner saw. 'Water?'

Reluctantly he nodded. His boss filled a cup and held the straw to his mouth. He sucked thirstily drinking it all. It was exhausting. Lying back on the pillows he closed his eyes for a moment. His brain was working enough to be uncomfortable with his boss seeing him this weak. He opened his eyes and noticed the scabs and bruising on his wrists. The handcuffs had been very tight then. He realised he could remember something of what had happened but he wanted to know more. 'Tell me what happened.'

'I don't want to tire you.'

'Dammit Sir. I'm already tired. Just tell me.'

'Mulder you only just got off the critical list last night.'

That was interesting news. He thought he'd recognised the sore throat that indicated he'd been intubated not long ago. Mind you he'd had a sore throat before he was kidnapped. Still his boss had just given him some leverage. 'So you don't want me getting upset. Tell me.'

Walter Skinner knew all about this agent's stubbornness. He also recognised that Mulder was going to wind himself up until someone told him what happened. Damn. He really needed Scully here to keep him under control.

'Please sir. What happened? I need to know.'

Walter Skinner made a strange grunting noise in the back of his throat. He was in a no win situation. So he told him. He told him how he'd disappeared, supposedly lost, delirious in the forest. Mulder nodded, he hadn't known how they'd covered his disappearance. Then the AD told him about Scully's phone call and how she had convinced him that he'd actually been abducted. Scully was convinced that Mulder was about to be killed in a nasty manner, if it hadn't happened already.

He didn't want to say it so Mulder filled in the space. 'I was supposed to have been carved up and sent all around the country as meat packs.' He ignored his boss' uncomfortable look. 'I heard them talking.'

Skinner swallowed and nodded. 'It looks like they had a thriving mail order business. They took orders for "types" of meat.' He still couldn't really believe that fact and yet the discovery of meticulous records proved it all. 'Mulder, they had an order for "FBI".' His voice raised in horror. He held up his fingers to show a pinch of air. 'You were that close.'

Mulder closed his eyes and fought to swallow the bile rising in his throat. This wasn't easy to hear. A comforting touch on his hand surprised him and brought him back to the present. Skinner was holding his hand.

'I'm okay.' He opened his eyes. Now they'd got this far he wanted to know it all. 'So what about the Polech's, the ones in the motel?'

'Complicated. We think they had heard of the...,' Skinner couldn't think of the word, '...arrangement, and had come to see. Maybe they wanted to get involved. They weren't very nice guys. Their records are pretty nasty.'

'But they wouldn't have stood a chance of being let in on it.' Mulder's voice was fading.

'That's right, mainly because they were men.' Skinner glanced at him in concern. Mulder had started out quite perky but was now looking grey with exhaustion. He needed to wind this up. He smiled grimly. 'So they ended up in pieces.'

Mulder took a deep breath. Scully had eaten some of them for dinner, shit possibly two dinners. His hand flew to his mouth. Oh No. Shit. Just like it had days ago when he tried the casserole his stomach rolled. He could feel the meat in his mouth. He heaved. Fluid spilled down the pillow as most of the water he'd just drunk came back. He didn't have the strength to move out of the mess.

'Mulder!' Skinner was reaching for the call button but Mulder grabbed his hand and stopped him. The retching slowed, it wasn't too bad. It was lucky he'd not eaten anything yet. He kept his grip on his boss' arm as he recovered, if the nurse came there would be no end of fussing and he would never get to the end of the story. His eyes were closed and he felt slightly faint but he was getting himself under control. Deep breaths helped.

He felt Skinner wipe his face with a cloth and then ineffectually dab at the damp spot on the pillow. It was useless. 'Lift your head.' He slid the pillow out and replaced it with one off Scully's chair. Mulder nodded his thanks. He hated this.

'Mulder you should rest.'

They hazel eyes opened. 'They were bait weren't they.'

Skinner groaned. 'Yes okay. Yes the Polechs were bait. Bait for us, for you. For the FBI'

'Well you'd better tell me the rest now.'

'What rest?'

'How Scully found me.'

He didn't want to. Mulder was fairly sure his boss was feeling guilty about something. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like what he had to say but he wanted to hear it anyway.

'She phoned you,' he prompted.

'Yes. She had this wild plan...' He took a deep breath and plunged into the telling. Scully Mulder was told had set out to get herself captured. Jesus Christ, he closed his eyes in pain. Only Scully... Skinner fumbled on quickly. He hadn't been happy about it but it had seemed the only way to get to where Mulder was being held with any certainty. She was fairly sure that Shareen would never take her there, even if threatened. She had a good idea by then of how much Shareen had to loose. But she hadn't done it completely alone. She had phoned Skinner and they had left the phone line between them open and the phone in the lining of her coat. It had been possible to track her through the satellite. Plus, Skinner said, and Mulder wondered at the strange look on his face, he had been able to hear everything that was going on. They had known the phone battery would last long enough to get a fix but it had actually stayed working long enough to let her know when the assault team was ready to come to the rescue.

Mulder knew there was an awful lot he wasn't being told but fatigue was setting in. It would be easier to get it from Scully later than prise it out of the boss now. His eyes were drooping and he didn't even have the energy to feel angry at Skinner for letting her do it or mad at Scully for giving him no choice. Scully had done it for him and that made his insides crawl.

Skinner was continuing his story. It hadn't taken long to get a fix on Scully's phone and work out where they were being held. They had that information before he had even landed in Denver. What took the time was assembling the assault and medical teams and getting them into place. Scully's original plan had been for then to hold off until Shareen and crew came to kill them off and catch them red handed. She was fairly sure there was more than just Shareen and her mother involved and she wanted them all.

However, Skinner said, Mulder had been too ill to leave any longer. Mulder could tell from his boss' body language just how ill he must have been. He remembered the feel of the gag in his mouth and shuddered.

So they had brought the rescue forward taking Mulder out but Scully insisted on staying. Mulder lay there speechless during the telling of this. She talked some poor dope who looked a little like Mulder into stripping to tee shirt and his shorts, cuffed him, and made him wait with her in that freezing pit until they came.

What could she have been thinking of, Mulder fumed? Just what? A worry worm niggled at his tired brain. How come if he was that ill, she could have let them take him away and not come?

The first part of the trap had worked. The women had arrived, sneaking in before dawn, unaware that the building was surrounded by agents. Once they realised what was happening however a fire fight erupted. Shareen had gotten away. A couple of women were injured, and one agent, Skinner said. The team had ended up taking about a dozen women, all from the village. Scully was fine.

Mulder squeezed his eyes shut trying not to imagine Scully under a hail of bullets. What had she been thinking of? But he didn't need to use a great deal of intellect to work it out, she had been betrayed by Shareen and she was angry. And Scully angry was awesome.

He opened his eyes to realise Skinner was looking at him with some concern. He stood up. 'I'll leave you now. You really do need to rest. Scully will have my hide if you're too tired to see her later.' He patted his hand. 'Take it easy Mulder. Don't be too cross with her. She did it for you.'

'Me?'

'Yes you dope. Because of what they did to you.' He looked at him incredulously. 'Don't you get it Mulder. Scully fights for you like a mother lion protecting her cubs. Always. From anyone, even me.'

Mulder just gazed at him as his heart turned flip flops. God he was so tired. He couldn't think.

He heard Skinner speaking through a haze but could no longer hear what he said. He seemed to float back down into the dark. Somewhere, sometime in the dark it finally registered. She loves me, he thought. She does.

- - - - - -

Sometime during the afternoon he came near the surface because he was aware that Skinner had had a phone call and had hurriedly left. He didn't wake again fully until they turned him again around four. He was beginning to understand why they kept turning him over. He was completely incapable of moving himself in the bed at all. He didn't think he had ever been so weak. Well not in the last few weeks anyway.

Scully still wasn't there. Surely she must be coming soon. He lay there trying to compose what he would say to her. 'Scully I love you.' sounded so stupid when he tried it out. 'Scully, Skinner says you love me,' was truly pathetic. 'Scully, I'm not worthy of you but I love you with every part of my miserable body. Stay with me forever,' was much more his style and likely to send her shooting straight back out the door. It was ridiculous. He'd had the chance to say this before. In fact he had said it. Or had he? After they'd made love, before they made love, he'd said it. Hadn't he? He wasn't sure if the words had ever actually come out. Surely she knew though. Didn't she? Hell the only time he was ever sure he's said it had been in another hospital room nearly two years ago. He got so worked up that he jumped every time footsteps came near his room.

At five someone did come in. A nurse with a message. Dana had phoned. Something had happened that she had to deal with. Don't worry about her, she would probably be a while.

He lay there and deflated.

At five fifteen someone came in with some jello. It tasted great.

He slept some more and woke to the cheery face of the nurse from last night. 'Hi there sweet. It seems since Dana's not here that its up to me to get you washed and settled for the night.' She started filling a bowl with water, setting out towels. 'We're not used to looking after you.'

It seemed ludicrous to talk of settling for the night when he couldn't have been any more settled if he'd tried. His body seemed moulded to the bed. Then the rest of what she said sunk in. Scully had been caring for him more than the nurses. Oh Scully.

'Where is Scully?'

The nurse stopped in the process of drying his face. Her name tag was right in front of his eyes. Janice Howel, it said, Staff Nurse. 'You did get her message didn't you?'

'Yes. I just thought she'd be here by now.'

'Well I'm sorry but I don't know anything more than that.' She pulled the hospital gown off and threaded it carefully up the IV tubing and over the bag. Then she washed his chest, arms and hands, dried them, rolled him over and did the same for his back. It was blissful. He looked down at his body. All but a few of the spots had dried and faded to a dull red colour. Only a few scabby ones were still itchy. Missing the itch was the only benefit he could think of in having been unconscious for four days.

'Dana bought you some pyjamas. Do you want to put them on?' She held them up and Mulder burst out laughing. They were navy blue satin with a superman print. It felt good to laugh. They weren't his usual bed wear but he was tired of hospital gowns and obviously Scully was trying to tell him something. Washed and dressed he lay there and tried to stay awake but he didn't have a hope.

The sound of quiet voices woke him later. It was quite dark, the only light in the room coming from the small lamp above the bed. Scully was sitting in the recliner chair, stretching out and putting her feet up. Janice was crouched beside her as they chatted quietly. They didn't seem to be aware that he was awake. 'Scully' he croaked.

'Hey there.' She turned starting to get up, and Mulder gasped with horror. Her leg was in a bright pink fibreglass cast.

'Scully, you're hurt!'

She groped for a crutch that he now noticed leaning against a chair and hopped over to the bed. Mulder's eyes were wide as he stared at her. Oh God, was she all right? His mind was racing. That's where she must have been all day. She'd broken her leg and had it set and now she was going to sleep in a chair!

'I'm all right Mulder. It's good to see you awake at last. How are you feeling?'

'But your leg? Doesn't it hurt.'

She sat wearily on the edge of the bed. 'It does a bit now but that's because I've been on my feet most of the day.' She smiled that tender smile reserved for showing him she really cared. She took his hand. 'It's okay Mulder. It happened days ago. I broke my ankle when Shareen pushed me into the pit.' She laughed, 'I landed on you, that's what did it.'

'You broke your leg when you fell into that pit.' he repeated dumbly.

'That's right. It's okay. It will be fine in a few weeks.'

But it wasn't okay. Not by a long shot! 'You stayed to trap them! With a broken ankle. Are you mad?'

'It's all right Mulder.'

He barely looked up as Janice waved goodbye and left the room. Another thought struck him. 'You've been looking after me. You've been doing more than the nurses.'

'I wanted to. I needed to. It's all right.'

'No it isn't. It isn't all right. I don't want you to do it any more.'

'What?'

'I don't want you to look after me any more.'

'Mulder?' She looked hurt and sad.

'Don't you see.' He reached out and touched her cheek. 'You need looking after. I want to look after you.'

'Aw shit,' she breathed. 'Shut up Mulder. I was so pleased you were awake, and here we are rowing again.' She reached across and pulled out all the pillows behind him. 'Move over.' Before he could protest she'd put her arms under his hips and shunted him across the bed. Then she climbed in beside him and lay down. Mulder was speechless. And delighted. Scully breathed a sigh of relief. 'God that's good. I know it's not hospital policy but I've had such a bad day. I don't think anyone is going to mind. I'm so tired.'

'Scully?' Mulder reached out tentatively and put his hand on her arm.

'Shh.' She stroked his hand and then ran her hand up and stroked his cheek. 'We can talk in the morning.' He could feel her grin against his chest. Her hand moved from his face to his shoulder. She stroked the smooth satin top. 'I like the pyjamas.'

'So do I.' He snuggled against her warm body, immensely comforted. Whatever troubles they had they weren't beyond fixing. Her being here proved that. Everything would be all right. He slept.

He woke again to the heart stopping realisation that Scully was in bed with him and she was crying. She was lying quite still, but a quiver ran through her body giving her away. Her head was nestled in his armpit, her body curled towards him and he was quite, quite sure she was crying. 'Scully?' Tentatively he stroked her hair.

'Mmmph,' she sniffed.

Oh god you're stupid, he told himself. She said she'd had a really bad day and all you've done is argue with her. With his free hand he groped for the tissues on the locker but the IV tubing tangled and nearly knocked the glass off. He fumbled, caught things and finally got the box.

'What are you doing Mulder?' Scully asked wearily.

Damn. Lancelot he wasn't. He handed her the box. 'Are you alright Scully?' He was at a loss here. He wanted to sweep her into his arms and hold her tight but he didn't have the strength. He wanted to find where it hurt and kiss it better but he knew he couldn't. Nothing could fix what hurt her any more. It was way too late for that.

'Scully? What's wrong?'

She blew her nose.

'Scully?' Then he remembered something. 'Is it to do with Shareen? Skinner said they brought her in.'

'Yeah, sort of.'

Mulder held back a sigh of relief. Shareen he felt he could help with. He stroked her hair. 'You must be pretty angry at her.'

'She's dead Mulder.'

'What! When?' She was in custody wasn't she? 'How?'

Scully moaned. God it must be bad. 'She chewed through her own wrists and bled to death in the cell.'

'Oh yuck!' Christ, that was over the top.

'Yuck? Yuck!' Scully sat up. 'Is that the best you can do?'

'I ... I...' Personally Mulder thought it sounded like a perfectly fitting end for the bitch but it had obviously upset his partner.

'Jesus Mulder! I pronounced her dead!'

Oh. He could picture the scene in the cell and it wasn't pretty. He reached for her and drew her back onto his chest. 'Shhh. Lie down Scully.' She grabbed a handful of satin and worried it. Mulder held her and stroked her. He remembered how comforted he had felt when she had done this for him after he'd nearly turned inside out being sick. For once in his life he had the sense to keep his mouth shut.

Scully was muttering to herself, nearly growling. For a moment Mulder was afraid he might get bitten. 'Aw shit Mulder,' she finally said. 'I liked her.'

'That's alright Scully. She made you like her.'

'I know she did,' she said through gritted teeth, 'but I should have seen through it. I should have stayed objective.'

How to answer that and say the right thing? He searched around for the right answer. 'She was very convincing,' he tried.

'Mmm.'

Relief.

She turned to look up at him. In the near dark she looked like a small unhappy child. 'Oh Mulder. You don't get it.'

No. No he didn't. He was very tired.

She lay down again, released the shirt and proceeded to stroke it instead. Mulder let himself relax a little. 'I went to her interview this morning.'

He kept quiet. He reached up and stroked her hair, his rhythm matching hers.

'She was completely unrepentant. She was full of hate. Hate for men. Hate for you.' Her hand stopped for a moment. Mulder kept his moving and in a minute she joined in. 'Hate. She really hated... everything. You'd have had a field day with her. I was amazed she'd functioned as well as she had, so "normally" for so long.'

She shuddered. 'Anyway, it was horrible. I guess we got finished about one and the sun was out so...' she paused guiltily. 'I knew you'd woken in the night. I guessed you'd probably be awake again but...' Once again she was scrunching a handful of shirt. Her mouth was pressing deeper against him and Mulder had to struggle to hear her.

'But you'd had enough of hospitals for a while?'

'Yes,' she gulped. 'No. There was more to it than that.' Mulder felt his heart plunge. He wasn't sure he wanted to know about what had been happening in her head.

'I had to think.' She was going to tell him.

Mulder was thinking too and he afraid he knew where this was going. Somehow he forced himself to keep stroking. Scully's hair was so soft, it's strands like silk, or he amended, satin under his fingers. He couldn't bear the thought that this might be the last time she let him touch it. He swallowed, listened, but she'd stopped talking.

The silence stretched out and he couldn't think of anything to say.

'Mulder?' Softly. Finally. 'Have I been that wrong before?'

Mulder's breath whooshed out of his chest. Oh god, there was a lot more to that question than there seemed. He moved his hand and wiped tears from her cheeks. There were so many answers he could give, so many references to times her belief in the goodness of the world had been wrong. But he was tuned in to her now, in this moment in time and it was the essence she needed now, not the truth. 'No Scully.' He dropped a kiss on her head. Scully grabbed at him and started to sob.

'Scully.' He knew what this was about and it was up to him now. Come on Mulder, take control. Oh Jesus, you can do this? 'Scully. Listen to me.' He gave her a little shake.

She moaned a little.

'Here look.' He fished around until he found the tissues again. 'Blow you nose please. Listen to me.' Something in his voice must have sunk in. She lifted her head and did as she was told.

'Good. That's better.'

She lay down again.

'Do you want a drink of water or anything?' Mulder stalled.

He felt her smile against his side. 'No thanks.'

He took a deep breath. Held it. Let it out. 'Scully, you're worried aren't you, that you might also have misjudged how I feel about you.' A pain stabbed in his chest. He'd said it. 'Is that it?'

She went still. Slowly she nodded.

Mulder forced his hand to sit still on her head, not to do to her hair what she'd been doing to his shirt. 'Scully.' They'd been here before. But this time it was vitally important he get it right. He couldn't do this again. 'I'm quite rational, okay?' Once again he took deep breaths. He could feel his heart rate starting to hit the danger level and was amazed the alarms on the monitor weren't going off. 'My temperature has been fine all day. The only drugs I'm on are antibiotics and oxygen, and that makes me think clearer.' That was a dumb thing to say.

She patted him gently. 'Go on,' she said.

He had no choice now. After that build up his bridges were burned. There was nothing else to say and suddenly he found he was quite calm. 'I love you Scully.'

He held his breath waiting for her reply... and had to let it out. He breathed some more. She didn't move, didn't make a sound. His calmness was rapidly leaving in the face of her silence and God he was tired. He felt himself starting to sink back into the dark.

'Scully.' His voice shook. 'Please can you say something before I fall asleep.' Tears were starting to prick at his eyes.

'Oh Mulder.' She wiggled up the bed until her head was on the pillow next to his. Her thumbs wiped his tears. She kissed him on "that" spot on the forehead. 'Shh, it's alright.' But it wasn't. Not yet. 'I was quiet because it was just so nice, lying here like this, hearing you say that.' She put her finger to his lips to stop him speaking. 'I made a decision today. Actually I made it five nights ago but what happened today made me think it through further.'

'Oh God!' He gasped. A decision made lying in a freezing pit with a broken ankle watching him die. He knew what it had to be. She'd had enough. His heart squeezed in pain.

'Mulder. Shush. It's alright. Here,' the tissue box hit him on the nose, 'you listen to me now. Okay.'

He gulped and blew his nose. Imperceptibly he nodded. He willed her to get it over with.

She felt around and found his hand. 'I've had enough Mulder. I can't take this any more.'

Something large and solid slammed into his chest. He had trouble taking a breath. Being prepared didn't make this any better. The darkness at the edge of the room seemed to pulse. He must have groaned.

'Shh Mulder. It's alright. Come back to me. Listen to me.' Scully was holding his face. 'Come on Mulder. Take a breath. That's right. Let it out. And another. That's good. It's alright.'

Slowly he got his breathing under control and managed to look up at her again. 'That's good,' she soothed. 'It's okay. Really. I'm sorry I didn't mean that to come out like that. It's alright.' Mulder gave a sudden sob and she lay across him and wrapped him in her arms. 'I'm not going anywhere Mulder. I'm not leaving you. I love you too and you've got me for keeps. Shhh. Calm down. It's okay.' Awkwardly his arms came around her and he clutched on to her like a drowning man.

When he'd finally got himself under control he was exhausted again. But he couldn't allow himself to sleep. Not yet.

'What do you mean?'

'Marry me Mulder?'

'What did you say?' He jolted with shock.

'Fox William Mulder, will you marry me?'

He gaped at her. 'How does that fix anything?'

'It proves I love you and I want us to spend the rest of our lives together.'

'You don't mean that?'

'I do too.'

'But what about the X Files?'

'What about them Mulder?' She looked him square in the eye. 'Think about monstrous video games and snake charming preachers. How would our lives suffer from not dealing with those?' She didn't give him a chance to answer. 'I have had enough of wondering if you will survive till morning. I have sat by far too many hospital beds. You have brought down the Consortium and you've found what happened to your sister. It is time to stop.' She drew breath but not long enough for Mulder to interrupt. 'I am ready to stop Mulder but I won't make you if you don't want to. You know I wouldn't do that. But I might be able to make you open up to some extreme possibilities.' She grinned. 'If we were married you know you'd be coming home to me every night. We'd be together Mulder. Properly. No more sneaking. You and me. That's what is important. We can work out the details later. Okay?'

Now she stopped and looked at him expectantly. He looked shell shocked. 'Well? What do you say?'

A mile wide smile spread across his face. 'Yes,' he said. And then he couldn't fight it any longer. He fell asleep.

END

Authors notes:

Do cell phone batteries last that long? I have no idea. Maybe high tech FBI owned ones do.

This is a rewrite of the original posted about a year ago. No one seemed to have read it but I always thought it was a reasonably good story. The actual story hasn't changed, it has another day added for the sheer joy of increasing the MT component, and it is much better written (I think). I have also updated it. It seemed to fit so well after the silliness of FPS and the way Scully must have felt towards Mulder after that. I also assumed now, and I hadn't then, that they are sleeping together. And finally, I lost the ghastly saccharin ending of the original. Back then I didn't know the characters very well.

Chicken pox in adults is truly awful. I don't recommend it to anyone.


End file.
